<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Renaissance by Maddiemarch</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541337">Renaissance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddiemarch/pseuds/Maddiemarch'>Maddiemarch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order: Criminal Intent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:53:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddiemarch/pseuds/Maddiemarch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A secret threatens to ruin the new life that Bobby and Alex have built together</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Secret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story takes place over a year after my fic "Ashes", which is available over at Fanfiction.net. You don't need to read "Ashes" to enjoy this story but it might be helpful for some background and an introduction to a few original characters that reappear here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"><strong>Chapter 1 - Secret</strong> </span>
</p>
<p>There was a crack in the mirror.</p>
<p>It started in the far-right corner and snaked upward, curving back in on itself before plummeting straight down. The main crevice halted abruptly an inch from the frame, smaller fissures sprouting from it like twigs from a branch. Her eyes traced its path from origin to terminus and back again while her hands clutched the sink below, the white porcelain cool against her palms. The rest of her body burned, fat drops of sweat trickling down her neck and oozing under her collar, sending a shiver up her spine.</p>
<p>Alexandra Eames’ reflection was marred by the winding fissure as she stared at her face in the mirror. Her normally pale complexion was snow white, drawn even under her healthy tan. A layer of moisture beaded her upper lip and half moon shadows darkened the skin beneath her eyes. It wasn’t a pretty sight. With a sigh, she flicked on the faucet and washed her hands with weak, runny soap from the dispenser. Resting her elbows on the vanity to compensate for her trembling legs, Alex took five deep breaths and remained motionless until the room mercifully stopped spinning.</p>
<p><em>See, you’re fine. It’s gonna pass more quickly this time</em>.</p>
<p>She had taken only one step toward the paper towel holder when it hit her again.</p>
<p>Like a speeding freight train, the vomit scorched its way up her esophagus and into her mouth. Alex clamped her lips together to corral it while she staggered across the small washroom and threw up into the bowl of the toilet for what felt like the millionth time in ten minutes. Her abdominal muscles spasmed repeatedly as they evicted her stomach contents until only scalding bile remained. She tried valiantly to make as little noise as possible as she wretched, thankful that the steady sound of the running water would disguise the worst of it.</p>
<p>When the wave of queasiness finally ebbed again, Alex flushed the toilet and walked weakly back to the sink. Extricating a handful of paper towels from the nearby dispenser, she dunked them under the running water and pressed the soggy bundle against her face. The cool compress felt like heaven against the flame in her cheeks. When it returned to room temperature, she threw the pile into the wastebasket and repeated the process until the feverish feeling had subsided. Although she felt somewhat more human afterward, her reflection in the mirror had not improved. With a grimace, Alex rooted in her crossbody bag and withdrew her powder and eye liner to try to mitigate the damage.</p>
<p><em>Morning sickness is such a misnomer</em>.</p>
<p>In reality, it struck whenever it damn well pleased. She had been fine that day until then, at four-thirty in the afternoon, when she found herself trapped in a Barnes &amp; Noble restroom, a hostage to her body’s insistent demands. Yesterday, it had fired up just before she went to bed. It was as unpredictable as it was unpleasant. After three weeks of this, she had been praying for a reprieve, but it wasn’t to be. Not today anyway. She wasn’t that lucky. Not today of all days, when she really, REALLY, needed this sickness to take a hiatus.</p>
<p>Because today was the first day that she would see Bobby in a month . . .</p>
<p>And he didn’t know she was pregnant.</p>
<p>A vending machine mounted on the wall sold small bottles of mouthwash. Alex bought one, swishing the green fluid around her mouth and cringing when it mingled with the sour taste of bile. A quick glance at her watch informed her that she was officially late. Shoving the compact, eye liner and half empty bottle of mouthwash into her bag, she took one final look in the mirror before unlocking the door. She was horrified to find that a line had formed outside while she had been in washroom. Ducking her head, Alex studiously avoided eye contact with those impatiently waiting as she squeezed past and exited into the café that occupied one end of the Barnes &amp; Noble.</p>
<p>The bookstore was busy for a Thursday. Summer programming had attracted kids and families and many aisles were jammed with clumps of people. The herd thinned as Alex put more distance between herself and the children’s section by cutting through the biographies and self-help books. She knew exactly where she was going; she had spent gobs of time with Bobby at this particular store, curled up in an overstuffed chair with a book while he prowled the floor, inevitably returning with a towering stack of purchases.</p>
<p>Today, she had a different destination.</p>
<p>Expertly maneuvering down aisles like it were a familiar corn maze, Alex finally approached the open event space at the back of the store. Three rows of folding chairs, now empty, stretched from one side of the space to the other, facing a podium and a long folding table. A poster rested on a tripod to the left of the chairs. It featured a photograph of her husband and a depiction of the cover of his recently published non-fiction novel Ashes: The True Stories of an NYPD Major Case Detective. Seated behind the folding table was the author himself, looking resplendent in a gray suit.</p>
<p>Even after all the years of professional and personal partnership, her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him and the intensity of the attraction stole her breath away.</p>
<p>Maybe it always would.</p>
<p>A single file line extended from where Bobby sat along the length of the space. As the person at the front of the line approached, he grabbed a copy of his book from the gigantic pile to his right. He greeted each customer with a smile and a handshake and made polite small talk before signing the first page with a flourish and then handing the book over. A pair of co-eds stood at the front of the line currently, each clad in a short skirt and clutching a signed book. As they turned away to allow the next person in line to step forward, they glanced back at Bobby one final time with barely disguised longing.</p>
<p>One corner of Alex’s mouth quirked up in amusement as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned a shoulder against one of the sturdy metal shelves on the outskirts of the space.</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, well. Author Robert Goren has groupies. </em>
</p>
<p>There were three people left in line when Bobby finally looked up from the processional and caught sight of her. His smile warmed Alex from the tips of her toes to the top of her head and she lifted one hand off her arm in a discreet greeting. When the final person had departed, he immediately pushed his chair back and skirted the table, heading straight for her. The Barnes &amp; Noble employee assigned to monitor the event said something but Bobby’s eyes never left her as he replied and kept walking.</p>
<p>Alex met him partway and he drew her into a warm bear hug. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes and savored his familiar scent. His stubbly cheek pressed against her hair and each puff of his breath ruffled individual strands and made her scalp tingle. The material of his suit jack was deliciously coarse against the delicate skin of her face. When she sensed that he was going to pull back, Alex tightened her hold for a minute longer, not wanting the embrace to end. Propping her chin on his chest, she looked up at him with a smile.</p>
<p>“Hi.”</p>
<p>Bobby brushed the hair out of her face, tucking it back behind her ears and returning the smile. “Hi yourself.”</p>
<p>He was leaning down to kiss her when an excited exclamation interrupted the moment.</p>
<p>“Yoooooooohooooooooo! Robert! Alexandra!”</p>
<p>The couple turned to see Bobby’s editor, Eunice, barreling toward them, a supernova of energy barely contained in a brightly patterned dress. Diamond teardrop earrings glinted beneath her mane of steel gray hair and an ornate ring festooned every finger. Alex groaned internally in disappointment as Eunice inserted herself between them with the deceptive grace of a former dancer, kissing the air on either side of both of their cheeks before grabbing Bobby’s hands.</p>
<p>“Your first cross state book tour is complete! Darling, how on earth do you FEEL?”</p>
<p>Bobby considered the question for a moment, rubbing a hand over his chin.</p>
<p>“It feels surreal, honestly. All of this. I never thought . . . well, that any of this would go as . . . good as it has. That anyone would want to read anything that I wrote, never mind come meet me and talk about it.”</p>
<p>“Robert, you are too humble,” Eunice scoffed, swatting his bicep. The thick bangle bracelets on her wrist tinkled with the movement. “Things have gone exceptionally well for you as a new author. Twelve weeks on the New York Times Non-fiction Best Sellers list! Can you believe it!”</p>
<p>“Not really,” he admitted, glancing back at his likeness on the poster at the front of the room. “It’s been a goal of mine since I was a, uh, kid, to have something published. But this has far surpassed my wildest dreams.”</p>
<p>Smiling widely, Eunice linked her arm through Alex’s and gave it a squeeze. “Well, we are just so proud of you, aren’t we dear?”</p>
<p>And Alex was, more than she could possibly express in that moment. Her chest was so tight with pride and affection that she was surprised to find she could still breathe. Swallowing hard to flatten the emotion in her voice, Alex slipped her free hand into her husband’s and let her thumb stroke over the rough skin of his calloused palm.</p>
<p>“We are. Very.”</p>
<p>Dropping her arm, Eunice reached up to pat Bobby’s cheek. “And just think! The good times are only just getting started! So many more amazing experiences to come.”</p>
<p>Bobby looked at his wife then, dark eyes twinkling as he squeezed her hand. “I’m looking forward to that. But right now, I’m extremely happy to be home.”</p>
<p>Eunice suddenly gasped overdramatically before clapping her hands together, the fabric of her dress fluttering around her arms.</p>
<p>“I nearly forgot! I’m having some people from the industry over tonight for a small barbecue at my vacation home. Authors, Illustrators, Publishers. You both MUST come! I can introduce you to some VERY influential people and we can toast Bobby’s success!”</p>
<p>The invitation caught them both by surprise and Bobby looked at Alex, head tilted in question. “Oh, uh, I . . . well that’s very nice of you, uh . . .”</p>
<p>She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was desperately seeking an out, an excuse that would allow him to escape the obligation. He wasn’t good at setting boundaries and they both knew that. The last thing he would want to do after being away for a month was attend a social event with a bunch of people he didn’t know. If she were being honest, the prospect didn’t appeal to Alex either but then again, neither did the alternative. Returning to their quiet cabin, with her secret wedged between them, could set up any number of uncomfortable situations. At home, it would be difficult to hide it if she got sick. He would want her to have a drink with him; he would expect them to make love.</p>
<p>At home there would be a much greater likelihood of her secret being revealed. It was too risky. She couldn’t avoid the cabin forever but she could delay their return for a few hours at least. Take advantage of the bonus time to solidify the mental preparation she had engaged in while he was away.</p>
<p>Because she wasn’t ready for Bobby to find out.</p>
<p>Not yet. Maybe not at all.</p>
<p>Definitely not until she knew for sure what she was going to do.</p>
<p>Pasting a faux enthusiastic smile on her face, Alex released Bobby’s hand and adjusted the strap of her crossbody bag.</p>
<p>“Sure. That sounds great, Eunice. Thank you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 2 - Homecoming</p>
<p>The last place in the world he wanted to be was at Eunice’s damn barbecue.</p>
<p>Physically and mentally, Bobby was tired. He had been on the road for the last four weeks, visiting ten different states. Each stay was brief, a few days at most, a blur of promotional events, book signings and speaking engagements. He was never anywhere long enough to settle, to get used to a place, before he needed to hop on a plane or slide into his rental car and move on to the next venue. He had nothing against hard work; he had known, at least on some level, when he decided to pursue a second career as an author that this would become his lot in life. Still, all of the hob knobbing, networking and social interaction was outside of his comfort zone and forced him to extend his naturally introverted self into extroversion. It was exhausting after a while.</p>
<p>What he hadn’t anticipated was just how popular his book would become. Just how many requests for his presence there would be, and how long they would keep him away. </p>
<p>How much he would miss his little cabin in the woods. Miss his wife. </p>
<p>He was grateful for all of the opportunities that Eunice had provided to him, that she continued to provide. He really was. It was her efforts that had gotten him in front of all the right people to drive his book sales. That was his income, and he was thankful for all she had done to ensure that it was a very healthy income at that. He had been able to pay off all of the debts that had haunted him – his credit card arrears from those months when he had been on suspension, his mother’s lingering hospital bills and his brother’s burial costs. They would be able to pay off the mortgage on the cabin sooner, maybe retire sooner, travel more. It was good. It absolutely was. If the cost for this good fortune was needing to attend a barbecue at some posh estate, it should have been an easy price to pay . . .</p>
<p>But he really just wanted to go home.</p>
<p>He had had a plan for the night. He would attend the book signing as scheduled and then they would stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things. Some different cheeses, some charcuterie. Fruit and chocolate. While he was in California, he had visited Napa Valley between events and purchased an outrageously expensive bottle of wine. They would crack it open out on the back deck and talk, or just sit quietly and absorb the sounds of nature surrounding them. When it was dark, they would go in and he would give Alex the lingerie, also ridiculously expensive, that he had bought for her in Vegas.  It was exquisite, made of the softest satin he had ever felt, and the rich blue color that he loved on her. If he were lucky, she would agree to try it on for him and then, well . . . he hoped he knew where that would lead . . .</p>
<p>It was a good plan. A great plan even. But it would have to wait for another day.</p>
<p>“Well, that was a big sigh.”</p>
<p>Alex’s wry observation drew him back from the depths of his mind. He felt the bump of the road beneath the Jeep’s tires again and the green of the trees that lined the highway filled his field of vision once more. Bobby hadn’t realized he had made a sound but clearly it had snuck out when he wasn’t paying attention.</p>
<p>“You’ve been awful quiet. I thought I’d lost you there for a second,” she joked, gaze returning to the road, carefully navigating around crumbling potholes.</p>
<p>Bobby ran a hand over the back of his neck. “No, sorry. I’m, uh, here. I’m just tired.” </p>
<p>Physically, she looked tired too. He had noticed that right away. She had tried to hide the dark circles under her eyes with makeup but he knew her face too well, had spent many years studying it. The worry wrinkle between her eyebrows was in full crease and her skin was pale beneath her tan. When they had gotten in the car, Bobby had asked her if she was feeling alright and received a terse “Fine” in response. He knew from the tone not to push it any further.</p>
<p>He could have pointed out that he wasn’t the only one being ‘awful quiet’. Alex had barely said a word for the entire car ride. She had started off asking a few questions about his trip but before long had lapsed into silence, staring at the road and gnawing on a cuticle. Her usually well-tended nails were already bitten down to the quick. When he asked questions, she would answer with a brevity that was uncharacteristic even of her. </p>
<p>To say that it was not the homecoming he had hoped for would be an understatement.</p>
<p>If this had been the first time he had sensed distance between them, he could have chalked it up to perhaps just a bad day. But it wasn’t. There had been a mounting chasm between them since he left for his book tour. Probably even before that, if he were being honest with himself. She had been reserved, preoccupied, in the weeks before he left too. Although they had talked on the phone almost nightly over the last month, he had sensed her becoming more and more withdrawn, the conversations growing shorter. He had wracked his brain to try to figure out what he might have done to upset her, but he couldn’t think of anything. If it were something going on at work, she would have told him. At one point while he was away, he wondered if maybe she were homesick, missing her family, missing the city. Surely she would have told him that though too . . . </p>
<p>It was the things he believed she WOULDN’T tell him that kept Bobby up at night.</p>
<p>Like that she was having second thoughts about marrying him . . .</p>
<p>Like that there was someone else . . .</p>
<p>Everything had happened so fast since their wedding. Maybe too fast. He was realizing now that they hadn’t had time to really settle into being married. He hadn’t thought that would be a big deal – they had already lived together for over a year after all. But maybe it was, for Alex. He could see now that their time as a married couple had been fractured. The week after the wedding, his book had been published and they had flown to Vienna for their honeymoon, which had been absolutely blissful for the most part. As soon as they got back, life became a whirlwind and before he knew it, he was on his way to Denver for the first leg of his multi-state book tour. He had been gone for a month, and for him, absence had absolutely made the heart grow fonder. Maybe for her, while she was alone in the cabin, she had started to question her decision, or begun connecting with someone else . . . </p>
<p>He didn’t want to think about that.</p>
<p>He also didn’t want to think about the fact that she wasn’t wearing her wedding rings. </p>
<p>He had noticed when they had pulled up to a stop sign a few blocks from the bookstore. Alex had been drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for another car to crawl through the intersection. Her ring finger was empty. He tried to block the feeling of unease that had begun to curl around his spine at the sight but was only moderately successful. They were her rings, and her fingers. She could wear them if she wanted to, and not wear them if she didn’t, right? It didn’t necessarily mean anything . . .</p>
<p>Still . . .</p>
<p>In three weeks, he would be gone again for another month. He had wanted to spend as much time alone with her as possible in the interim. He had hoped she wanted the same. </p>
<p>It certainly didn’t feel that way. </p>
<p>Eunice’s vacation home was on the outskirts of Portland. She lived there for only part of the year, while her yacht was in the water, but the property on which the old Victorian sat was four times the size of the parcel of land Bobby and Alex lived on year-round. It was set back from the road, the driveway protected by two stone pillars and a tall wrought iron fence. On either side of the driveway, rolling green lawns led up to a large house with blue shutters, a wraparound porch and bright red door. The backyard was hidden behind the structure but Bobby knew from a previous visit that it featured a complete outdoor kitchen, an inground pool, a small greenhouse and a gazebo. </p>
<p>The grass bordering the driveway was lined with cars of varying makes and models with one thing in common – they were all expensive.  BMWs, Lincolns, Ferraris, one Porsche. Their dirty Jeep looked ridiculously out of place as Alex found an open spot and expertly maneuvered into it. Ten yards away, a catering company van sat by the front steps, its back doors wide open. Men and women dressed in white bustled back and forth, carrying large silver platters laden with food. </p>
<p>“Just a small barbecue, huh Eunice?” Alex murmured dryly as she put the car in park, withdrew the keys and released her seatbelt. When Bobby sat there, unmoving, she looked over at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>With a sigh, Bobby moved a hand to the buckle of his seatbelt but didn’t unclip it. “I just . . . don’t want to do this.”</p>
<p>Alex slumped back into her seat a little, eyes soft. “I know.”</p>
<p>That recognition, which was probably meant to validate him, actually made him feel worse. He realized then that he had been holding out hope subconsciously that he had miscommunicated his strong desire to decline Eunice’s invitation. Usually, she could read his eyes from across a room. Maybe today he had failed to send the right message and she had only agreed thinking that was what HE wanted? </p>
<p>Clearly not. </p>
<p>“There are important people in publishing here, Bobby,” Alex said, the car keys jingling in her lap as her leg bounced up and down. “You shouldn’t be passing up opportunities like this. It’s good for your career.”</p>
<p>“I know,” he muttered, gazing out the window at the lush front lawn. A rabbit sat underneath one of the elm trees, chewing on a blade of grass. “I’m just having a really hard time caring right now.”</p>
<p>“Bobby!” Alex seemed both surprised and irritated by the comment. “This is your livelihood now. We’ve got bills to pay, remember?”</p>
<p>“I know. I’m just tired. It’s been a long trip.” His tone was flat as he turned to look at her, finally unbuckling his seatbelt in surrender. “I’ve missed you. I just want to be home. Alone. With my wife.”</p>
<p>Alex’s face relaxed then and she smiled at him with sympathy. “I can understand that. But look, tomorrow is Friday, and then we’ve got all weekend to relax together. All next week too, since I’m on vacation. This is important. We need to do this. Okay?”</p>
<p>Leaning across the console, she kissed him gently, one hand on his chest. He tried to ignore the little voice in his head that pointed out cruelly that this was the first time she had kissed him since he got back, focusing on the taste of her lips instead. He knew then that he was screwed. No matter how little he wanted to go to this soiree, he could never refuse her. Especially when she kissed him.<br/>
</p>
<p>The unfortunate fact was that they would actually have no time alone this weekend or a good part of next week.  He knew that, but couldn’t tell her. </p>
<p>It was supposed to be a surprise.</p>
<p>When Alex eventually settled back into her seat and looked at him expectantly, Bobby took a deep breath, lips still tingling. He nodded his head once in acceptance and reluctantly opened the car door. </p>
<p>“Okay. Let’s go get this over with.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Chapter 3 - Trust</em>
</p>
<p>He should have stayed at Major Case.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a thought that he had often since leaving the NYPD. A handful of times, maybe, when he had been sitting in front of his laptop, squinting at an empty white page, willing words to fill it. Not often certainly. That evening though, surrounded by a group of pompous, pontificating, wealthy old men bemoaning the slow death of print media, he longed for the job that afforded him the solitude of an empty interrogation room and the challenge of a convoluted puzzle. Light years away from the inane privileged drivel of these self-proclaimed titans of the industry.</p>
<p>As usual, Eunice had greatly understated the grandeur of the event in her invitation. He should have anticipated that - she referred to her yacht as a boat and her expansive estate as a vacation home after all.  There had to be a hundred people milling around the editor’s backyard, sipping fancy wine and eating expensive hors d’oeuvres, wandering through the gardens, circling the tennis courts and admiring the concrete fountain. Eunice must have introduced him to every single attendee over the course of the last three hours. It felt that way at least. All the names, faces and titles had started to blend together. He had resisted the temptation of the trays of champagne that travelled in winding paths among the guests up to that point, worried the alcohol would loosen his tongue in a career-damaging way, but it was becoming more challenging as the urge to dull the irritation grew.</p>
<p>These were important people to his career, people that he would never get in front of on the power of his own reputation. He knew that. He had tried to embrace the opportunity as he trailed along behind Eunice like a well-trained puppy, shaking hands, humbly accepting the accolades that came from the publishing world when you were a New York Times Bestselling Author. He answered questions about his first book, provided a vague outline of his hopes for the second. It had been fine, at first, but several hours in the travel fatigue started to catch up with him. Once Eunice disappeared from his side, leaving a suffocating trail of Chanel No 5 in her wake, he had inserted himself in his current group, smiling vacantly, grateful that they had selected a topic not central to him. It gave him the freedom to fade into the woodwork and stop pushing himself to be the confident and celebrated author that Eunice made him out to be. To allow his mind to wander to the blue-green of the lake, the soft breeze on the back deck, and the warmth of his wife in his arms.</p>
<p>Alex. Another reason that he was missing Major Case in that moment.</p>
<p>Back when they had been partners, she would have been right by his side during these conversations and her dry quips would have kept things entertaining. It had been <em>their</em> thing. Now these events were <em>his</em> thing and she respected that, gave him space to be Robert Goren the author, not Robert Goren the former NYPD Detective. On his end, he tried to make sure that she didn’t feel obligated to stand there like a prop, that she had the freedom to amuse herself as she saw fit. He longed for that shared vocation again, for her presence, to make his necessary exposure to the mind-numbing banality of these interactions just that little bit easier. He wouldn’t put her through that though.</p>
<p>Even if he <em>could</em> find her.</p>
<p>He had lost sight of his wife almost immediately after they had walked around the back of the house and joined the party. Eunice had descended upon him like an eagle on a groundhog, inserting herself between them and linking her arm through his, a huge floppy hat shading her face. Alex had squeezed his hand just before his editor pried them apart and then disappeared into the entourage that was trailing after Eunice. He had looked for her in the rare moments his attention wasn’t required elsewhere but there were just too many people and not enough time to examine each clump of humanity close enough to spot his wife. Now that he was less in demand, he scanned the crowd hopefully, eager to spot her and pull her aside, suggest that he had done his duty and that if they returned to the cabin now, they could catch the last of the sunset over the water.</p>
<p>His search was fruitless. She remained elusive.</p>
<p>When the group’s conversation veered from audiobooks into the “outrageous blasphemy that was self publishing”, Bobby couldn’t take it anymore.</p>
<p>
  <em>Screw it. Time for a drink.</em>
</p>
<p>There was a full bar in one corner of the spacious patio, a permanent structure that was staffed by a bartender dressed in a crisp black suit. Excusing himself with a mumble, Bobby made a beeline for it, skirting the in-ground hot tub and outdoor billiards table. He ordered a Glen Livet, leaning his forearms on the marble countertop and idly watching the muted CNN broadcast on a TV mounted on the wall as he waited. His feet were starting to ache from standing so long in his dress shoes and if it weren’t for a steady evening breeze he would have been sweating through his white shirt.</p>
<p>“You look like you’re having about as much fun as I am right now.”</p>
<p>A voice to his right drew Bobby’s attention and he glanced over at the only other visitor at the bar, a man in his late thirties. He was tall, even taller than Bobby, with brown hair spliced with blonde highlights. He had a strong nose and a granite jaw with gray eyes that matched his suit. Unlike Bobby, he had elected to keep his suit jacket on but seemed unperturbed by the heat. Either Eunice had not introduced him to every possible human at the event or this one hadn’t made the transition from short-term memory to long-term memory, because he didn’t look familiar.</p>
<p>“Uh, well, it’s okay, it’s a nice event.”</p>
<p>The other man snorted. “That’s a very politically correct response.”</p>
<p>He held out a thick hand which Bobby grasped and shook.</p>
<p>“Stewart Millar. I’m a Marketing Rep for Penguin Random House.”  </p>
<p>“Robert Goren. I, uh . . . write.”</p>
<p>Millar nodded slowly, recognition of the name dawning. “Ah, yes. The True Crime author. Our host’s current celebrity du jour.”</p>
<p>Bobby smiled lightly. “If you say so.”</p>
<p>“You must be bored out of your gourd here. Didn’t you used to work for the NYPD?” Stewart shook his head. “Wouldn’t be a dull moment there. Way different than being stuck glad handing and ass kissing a bunch of stuffed shirts who should have retired twenty years ago.”</p>
<p>The bartender slid a clear-cut crystal glass on a napkin beside Bobby’s elbow. He acknowledged him with a nod of thanks before picking up his drink and taking a long sip. The alcohol tingled pleasantly on the way down.</p>
<p>“Well, there were some politics in my former occupation too, and no shortage of stuffed shirts.” A small grin twitched at the corners of Bobby’s mouth. “I wasn’t particularly adept at the politics back then either. Fortunately, I worked with someone who was.  My partner got me out of hot water with the bigwigs on more than one occasion.”</p>
<p>Millar chuckled. “Bet you wish she were here to bail you out now.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, you have no idea. </em>
</p>
<p>Bobby shrugged, liking the other man despite his crusty attitude. “There are important people here. As a newbie in the industry, I don’t get a lot of chances to get in front of people like this. It’s good for my career.”</p>
<p>Stewart tilted his glass of amber liquid in Bobby’s direction. </p>
<p>“Sounds to me like you manage the politics just fine. I would believe you, man, if I hadn’t seen your face when you came over to the bar and watched you down that drink. Either this event is taxing your last nerve like it is mine, or you were awful thirsty.”</p>
<p>Bobby glanced down at the crystal tumbler in his hand, surprised to find that it was indeed empty. He had completely drained it without noticing. Turning back to the bar behind him, he caught the bartender’s eye and signaled for a refill.</p>
<p>“Speaking of thirsty . . .”</p>
<p>With Millar’s words, Bobby swivelled back around, curiously following the other man’s gaze . . . straight to Alex.</p>
<p>His wife had appeared as if out of thin air, rounding the corner of the stone fountain with Eunice stuck to her side, chattering in her ear. She looked pained but was allowing the older woman to guide her in the direction of the massive table of food that sat across the patio from the bar. When their eyes met from across the space, as they always seemed to, she smiled at him and he felt his heart pound in his chest, as it always did at the sight of her, even after all of these years of being together.</p>
<p>“Mamma Mia,” Stewart groaned, placing a hand over his heart as if he were having a similar cardiac reaction. He followed her progress across the flagstone, elbowing Bobby with his opposite arm. “You see her check me out? Damn. Where has she been all my life?”</p>
<p>
  <em>With me.</em>
</p>
<p>Bobby considered putting an end to the pretense right there, bursting the other man’s bubble, but a small voice piped up in the back of his head, suggesting that there might be the potential for some fun here, to play a bit of a game, to act a part. He had had so little opportunity to do that since Major Case that he just couldn’t resist.</p>
<p>“Yeah, she’s pretty cute,” he remarked mildly, scratching at his chin.</p>
<p>“Cute? She’s a fox,” Millar insisted, his eyes still locked on the two women who now had their backs to the men, leaning over the food table. “And look at her ass in those jeans. I think I’m in love.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Way ahead of you. I’ve been in love with her for a very long time. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And her ass IS absolutely spectacular.</em>
</p>
<p>“Eh, she’s probably married to one of the stuffed shirts here,” Bobby replied with an exaggerated shrug, taking a sip from his freshly replenished glass. “Unless you’ve got money, she’s not going to be interested.”</p>
<p>Stewart shook his head vehemently. “Nah, I checked out the ring finger just a second ago. Not a diamond in sight.”</p>
<p>“Well, just because she isn’t wearing a ring doesn’t mean she’s not married.”</p>
<p>“It makes a statement to me,” Stewart said with a grin. “It says at the very least fair game. We may not have the money these old bastards have, but at least we don’t need a blue pill to get it up, right?”</p>
<p>Bobby shifted uncomfortably, feeling tension begin to mount in his stiffening shoulders, concerns about her missing rings floating back up to the surface from where he had buried them hours ago. His grip tightened on the crystal in his hands.</p>
<p>
  <em>Her rings, her fingers. She doesn’t have to wear them if she doesn’t want to, right? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But why doesn’t she want to?</em>
</p>
<p>He took a deep breath to try to curve his rising anger, reminding himself that this was just meant to be a bit of fun, a chance to assume a character and play a role. It was hardly the first time he had witnessed another man hitting on Alex. It was to be expected – his wife was a knockout. It aggravated him sometimes of course, but he had never felt the need before to step in and stop it. Alex could take care of herself and he trusted her. He did.</p>
<p>He was just feeling a bit . . . vulnerable . . . at the moment.</p>
<p>“No, no we don’t,” Bobby finally agreed with increasingly forced amiability, his positive view of Millar rapidly waning.</p>
<p>Eunice had darted off somewhere and Alex was now alone, standing off to one side of the patio with a plate of mixed hors d’oeuvres. She took a bite of one and it must have left some crumbs on her fingers because she quickly slipped her thumb into her mouth to clean them off.</p>
<p>Millar again groaned loudly as he watched her.</p>
<p>“Christ, I have such a thing for petite women like that. I just had a vision of her down on her knees in front of me. I’m going to get a lot of mileage out of that one.”</p>
<p>It took everything in Bobby’s body and soul not to deck the man.</p>
<p>He remembered hearing perps claim they had blacked out in a fit of rage when committing a crime. He hadn’t believed them, not really. Until now. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, toeing the line, looking over into the abyss. The abyss beckoned to him. It was the thought of Alex that pulled him back. He could sense her beside him, a calming hand placed on his arm, inserting herself between the two men because she knew that Bobby would never risk having her hit in the crossfire. Looking at him with those damn eyes of hers that settled the beast within, whispering that Stewart wasn’t worth it. Not worth destroying his career, causing a scene, potentially getting arrested. She was right, he knew that, but every inch of his body was screaming for retribution, desperate to make him choke on his words.</p>
<p>
  <em>Bobby, stop.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t let him get to you. He’s no different than any perp in an interrogation room . . . No matter what he says, you will have the last laugh. </em>
</p>
<p>Stewart stood up straighter and drained the rest of his glass, plunking it back on the bar with a firm bang.</p>
<p>“I’m going to go over there, introduce myself, see if I can work some magic.” He clapped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder before walking away. “Been nice meeting you. We should connect sometime, talk about your next book. Drinks on me.”</p>
<p>Bobby watched him saunter across the patio, pausing only briefly to pluck two flutes of champagne from a passing tray with a flourish. As Stewart greeted his wife, Alex glanced at him with a polite smile but very little interest. A tingle of anticipation shivered up Bobby’s spine as he finished his second Glen Livet and motioned for another, cracking his knuckles as he waited.</p>
<p>
  <em>Time to snap the trap on this little rat.</em>
</p>
<p>“Good luck my friend,” Bobby murmured to no one in particular, a malicious grin spreading across his lips as he watched the bartender pour his next drink. “I think you’re going to need it.”</p>
<p>
  <em>The joke is about to be on you. </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>She should have told him weeks ago.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that there hadn’t been opportunities. She just couldn’t find the words.</p>
<p>A few weeks after they had returned from their honeymoon, she had started feeling funny. Not bad, just . . . odd.  It hadn’t been a <em>new</em> sensation exactly but it was uncommon enough that Alex had struggled to identify it at first.  She had been sitting in a company car on surveillance one day, working her way enthusiastically through a meatball sandwich, when it hit her.</p>
<p>The last time she had felt like that, she had been pregnant with her nephew.</p>
<p>Alex had laughed out loud at the thought. Pregnant, at her age. What a joke. Sure, she was still menstruating, but the odds would have been infinitesimal. She had actually googled it as she sat there, her meatball-greasy fingers marring the touchscreen, and was reassured to find that the percent chance that a woman her age would get pregnant naturally was indeed extremely low. It certainly couldn’t be that.</p>
<p>Still, something made her stop at the pharmacy on the way home to buy a pregnancy test. </p>
<p>She had been standing in the bathroom, staring incredulously at two traitorous blue lines, when she heard the reverberations of Bobby’s footsteps in the cabin. How easy it would have been to tell him then, to walk out and wordlessly hand him the test. Instead, she buried the test and its box in the waste basket and went out to greet him like normal. Home pregnancy tests were historically unreliable after all, she convinced herself. There was no point in upsetting him then over what was surely nothing.</p>
<p>A week and a half later, her doctor’s office called with the blood test results.</p>
<p>Positive.</p>
<p>She was pregnant.</p>
<p>Her hands had been shaking and it took Alex a minute to hang up the phone.  Even though it was a warm late spring day, she remembered suddenly feeling so cold that her teeth were actually chattering.</p>
<p>But she still didn’t tell him.</p>
<p>It had been very early days in her pregnancy then. The likelihood of miscarriage, especially at her age, was significant and she was prone. She had had a miscarriage in her twenties, just after she got married. Joe had been thrilled when she told him she was pregnant and devastated when she lost the baby.  She had carried Nate to term only thanks to the IVF and the miracle of modern medicine. There was no sense in telling Bobby if she was just going to have a miscarriage, she justified to herself. It would put a strain on their relationship for nothing. It was best to just keep quiet and wait for the inevitable loss.</p>
<p>A loss that never came.</p>
<p>The baby kept growing. Her body kept adapting. At the eight-week mark, reality had started to set in. Nature was not taking its course like she imagined it would.</p>
<p>The universe was going to force her to make a decision.</p>
<p>The sound of laughter to her left jolted Alex back into the present and she realized she had been standing there, staring at her plate of appetizers for an obscene amount of time. </p>
<p>The evening’s repast was visually repulsive. It was all fancy cheeses, foie gras and pate. Hamburgers were the sole homage to the “barbecue” theme and even those seemed to be made of an illogical combination of meats and non-meat alternatives. She may have been more open-minded if her stomach had been stronger but the texture of the morsels alone made her gut squirm warningly. Still, with Eunice hovering over her shoulder, raving about each item individually, Alex had had no choice but to pick up a few morsels and place them on the fine china Eunice had handed her.</p>
<p><em>Not paper plates, no sir. China</em>.</p>
<p>When Bobby’s editor had lost interest in her, lured away mercifully by someone far more important, Alex nibbled on a devilled egg, the only thing on her plate that she was confident of the ingredients, and took a bite, chewing carefully. It went down okay. She tried the corner of a gourmet pot sticker next. The pastry was delicious, light and flaky, and she licked her fingers to clean off all of the crumbs. When the meat filling hit her tongue however, her stomach started to press up toward her throat. Grabbing a napkin, she spit the mouthful out as subtly as possible and tossed the napkin and her still full plate into the trashcan when she thought no one was looking.</p>
<p><em>This kid is trying to turn me into a vegetarian</em>.</p>
<p>As other hungry party goers started to press in on the table, Alex wandered away down to a quiet plot of grass by the coy pond, watching the bright orange fish paddle lazily among the lily pads and trying to disappear. It wasn’t difficult. At these events, she was essentially invisible. She had spent most of the evening wandering the grounds alone, smiling politely at people as she passed. No one other than Eunice made any effort to engage her in conversation. The men, upon learning that she had nothing to do with writing or publishing, smiled at her and then turned away. The women assessed her from head to toe, evaluating her non-designer clothes and the wrinkles that lined her forehead, and then also proceed to ignore her. She was superfluous, unimportant. It didn’t matter though. This event wasn’t for her, it was for Bobby and the last thing he needed was her tagging along behind him.  </p>
<p>Still, with no one to talk to, it made for a long and painful evening.</p>
<p>
  <em>And there is no one to blame for that but yourself.</em>
</p>
<p>“You look bored.”</p>
<p>The voice behind her was deep, masculine and held a faint lilt of flirtation. When she turned away from the coy pond to face him, she found a stereotypically good-looking man. Probably late thirties and tall, handsome, with defined features, his white dress shirt open at the neck. His dark hair was slightly slick with sweat around the edges and he held a flute of champagne in each hand.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Stewart.”</p>
<p>“Alex.”</p>
<p>He smiled at her with even white teeth and twinkling eyes. “It’s nice to meet you Alex. I’m the VP of Publishing for Penguin Random House. I thought I knew everyone in the industry by now, but clearly not. I surely would have remembered you.”</p>
<p>Alex suppressed an eye roll but found herself unexpectedly pleased with the company. Stewart might have been coming on to her, but he was the first person all evening who had actually made a point of introducing himself. The majority of her night to that point had been spent listening to rich, privileged white men, grousing about the challenges of hiring qualified chauffeurs and the rising cost of property taxes on their multiple estates and kept white women comparing notes on the best place to get Botox and trying to outdo each other with the plans for their next tropical vacation. That wasn’t her world, and she got the sense it wasn’t Stewart’s either. He was too young and his attire didn’t scream trust fund. If she could get him past any illusion he might have about taking her home, she may actually have someone half decent to talk to.</p>
<p> “I don’t work in publishing. I’m a Private Investigator.”</p>
<p>That seemed to both surprise and impress Stewart and his smile widened. “Really? Wow. Are you here for business then, or pleasure?”</p>
<p>“At the moment? I’m not sure it’s either,” Alex replied dryly.</p>
<p>That earned her a genuine appreciative laugh and Stewart extended a glass of champagne in her direction.  </p>
<p>“I think you might need this as much as I do. Have a drink with me?”</p>
<p>“Don’t mind if I do.”</p>
<p>Bobby’s deep voice rumbled suddenly over her left shoulder as he plucked the flute from Stewart’s fingers. His eyes never left the other man as he drained the champagne and then thrust the empty vessel back in his direction.</p>
<p>“I know you had suggested drinks, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”</p>
<p>A drop of sweat freed itself from Stewart’s hair and streaked down the side of his face as he took back the glass. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again with an abrupt snap, looking supremely uncomfortably. Some of the color leeched out of his face as he looked back and forth between the two of them.</p>
<p>“I, uh . . . you two know each other?”</p>
<p>“We sure do,” Bobby agreed amiably, snaking an arm around her waist and tugging her back against him possessively. “Alex is my <em>wife</em>.”</p>
<p>The way he emphasized the last word made it clear that this was not the men’s first interaction and Alex felt a flash of irritation that she had unwittingly been the butt of some sort of inside joke. Stewart was white as a sheet now, minus two bright pink circles that stained his cheeks. When he swallowed, she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing even in the waning light.</p>
<p>“Well, I s-should get back to my rounds,” Stewart stammered, a bit too brightly. “Great to talk to you both.”</p>
<p>Ducking his head, the younger man jackrabbited from the vicinity so quickly that he nearly left a cartoonish cloud of dust in his wake. Bobby’s body shook with suppressed laughter as he watched him go, a broad grin spreading across his face. He loosened his grip on her, relaxing his arms and letting one hand splay across her abdomen. She tensed automatically at the touch, suddenly anxious that his dexterous fingers would find the small but growing swell of her belly.</p>
<p>“What the hell was that all about?” Wrenching herself from his grasp, Alex turned to face her husband, folding her arms over her chest.</p>
<p>Bobby was clearly taken aback by the forcefulness of her reaction, visibly recoiling.</p>
<p>“Oh, I, uh-”</p>
<p>“Was that really necessary?” Alex’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. She jut out her chin defiantly and tried to tug her shirt down as far as it would go.</p>
<p>“He . . . I . . . but, he-”</p>
<p>“Was hitting on me, I know,” Alex interrupted. A couple ambled past them and she averted her gaze until they were out of earshot. “Doesn’t give you the right to go all caveman on me. I can take care of myself.”</p>
<p>Bobby appeared stunned, confused by the ferocity of the venom in her words and expression. He shifted his weight awkwardly and slipped his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks.</p>
<p>“I know, I just, he made a comment-”</p>
<p>“I don’t care what he said,” Alex hissed, eyes darting around to make sure no one was paying attention to their domestic squabble. “He may have been a slimy amoeba but he was the first person all night that was actually nice to me.”</p>
<p>She knew innately that she was blowing this completely out of proportion, making a huge deal about absolutely nothing, acting out of character, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was displaced anger at its finest. She was a spring tightly coiled, on the verge of exploding. They should have been laughing about this, not fighting, she knew that. But she was not herself. Her hormones were completely out of whack and to her horror she found herself actually tearing up, her bottom lip quivering.</p>
<p>“I don’t fit in here. The men ignore me and the women judge me. No one has any interest in getting to know me or hearing what I have to say. I’m not a bestselling author like you Bobby. I come from a family of blue-collar cops. I don’t belong at events like these. So when someone actually reaches out to talk to me, well, I would like you to have enough trust in me to let that happen.”</p>
<p>He could have challenged her, could have pointed out that it was her decision that they attend the barbecue in the first place, but he didn’t. He took the high road, which only made her feel worse.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” Bobby took a step forward to touch her, to offer physical comfort, but when she shook her head faintly, he halted and returned his hands to his pockets. “I do trust you. It was never about that.”</p>
<p>Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hands shaking as the adrenaline faded and her system stabilized.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry too. I’m being a bit crazy. It’s just . . .”</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s something I need to tell you . . . and it’s eating me up inside.</em>
</p>
<p>“. . . been a long day,” she finished lamely.</p>
<p>He nodded slowly, intelligent eyes scanning her face, but she could tell he was still bewildered. She didn’t blame him. She felt a bit bewildered herself and suddenly completely exhausted. Reaching out, she slipped a hand into his and offered a weak smile.</p>
<p>“I think you’ve done your duty. What do you say we get the hell out of here? Maybe we can catch the last of the sunset.”</p>
<p>While he bid farewell to Eunice, she snuck away to throw up in the bushes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Chapter 4 - Questions</em>
</p>
<p>The OBGYN’s office was freezing.</p>
<p>The reclining examination chair felt like a slab of ice against Alex’s back and legs. The central air conditioning was clearly trying to overcompensate for the sizzling July heat, leaving the building’s interior with all the charm of a refrigerator. Her skin was freckled with goosepimples and shivers kept scurrying up and down her spine like cockroaches escaping the light. The cream-colored walls were decorated with a mixture of contemporary artwork reproductions and educational posters. The illustration on her right depicted the stages of prenatal development while the one on her left advertised the benefits of chiropody during pregnancy. She had read them both so many times in the last ten minutes that she could practically recite them by memory.</p>
<p>It was preferable to thinking.</p>
<p>As she stared at a weak reproduction of Sturtevant’s “Warhol Flowers”, Alex’s hand drifted absently down to her stomach, tracing the small swell that was taking shape there. At nearly eleven weeks, the slight baby bump wouldn’t be obvious to most people but she could tell it was there. Bobby would be able to tell too. She had added a few looser items of clothing to her wardrobe to try to better hide it but that strategy wouldn’t work forever.</p>
<p>Time was ticking.</p>
<p>A decision would need to be made.</p>
<p>The prospect of a baby at her age was terrifying. There were so many risks - for her and for the baby. Chromosomal abnormalities, birth defects, complications from prematurity. How could she bring a child into the world knowing that she might be setting a precious creature up for a lifetime of struggle? The physical toll on her body would be significant; gestational diabetes, high blood pressure, and preeclampsia were all very real dangers. Would she ever recover? Would she have the stamina to keep up with a toddler?</p>
<p>And then there was the impact on her relationship . . .</p>
<p>They had never discussed having children. There hadn’t seemed to be a need. She assumed that ship had sailed and he probably had too. The first time they had been intimate, on the fourth of July several years ago, with the rain thundering on the roof, he had asked her if he needed to use protection. She had told him no. With their combined ages . . . well, a pregnancy had seemed an impossibility.</p>
<p>Would he blame her?</p>
<p>Did he want children? She had never asked. Again, there hadn’t seemed to be a need. Off-the-cuff comments over the years about his lack of a father figure and concerns about the inheritability of his family’s mental health conditions had led her to believe the answer to that question was no. Even if he had at some point, it was unlikely he would want one now. Not when he was over fifty . . .</p>
<p>They had just settled into a new quiet life, a life that they both cherished after all they had endured personally and professionally. If she had this baby, they could kiss that life goodbye. Their peaceful home would be completely disrupted . . .</p>
<p>Would their marriage survive?</p>
<p>The uncertainty around how Bobby would react if she told him kept her up at night.  Would he be excited, or would he be outraged? He had grown leaps and bounds in his ability to manage difficult situations, to curb his anger, express his emotions, thanks to a considerable amount of therapy. Would this revelation thrust him back onto the path of anxiety and self-destruction that he had worked so hard to escape?</p>
<p>Could she live with herself if she were the cause of that?</p>
<p>So many questions. No answers.</p>
<p>When she took into account all of the potential risks – to the baby, to her, to her husband, to their marriage – the decision seemed easy. The safest, most practical choice would be to quickly and quietly have an abortion. She knew that.</p>
<p>She was just having a little trouble letting go . . .</p>
<p>A sudden, sharp knock on the examination room door mercifully interrupted the descent of Alex’s musings into darkness. She called out a hasty invitation to enter, dropping her hand from her belly. The sliding partition coasted open and Dr. Gwen Madison stepped into the room, closing the panel softly behind her.</p>
<p>“Alex, how are you?”</p>
<p>“I’m good,” Alex responded automatically, twisting her hands together in her lap nervously. “How are you?”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison looked every bit the stereotypical doctor in her green scrubs and white lab coat, complete with dangling stethoscope. Her jet-black hair was long and cascaded down her back in a thick braid. She was young, mid thirties at most, with flawless olive skin. Alex wondered idly what the doctor must think about her, <em>really</em> think about her, a silly middle-aged woman who had gone and got pregnant as if she were twenty-five.</p>
<p>That was one question she probably didn’t care to know the answer to.</p>
<p>“I’m doing well, thank you.”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison lowered herself into the office chair to Alex’s right and rolled up to her desk. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she entered a password and double clicked an icon on the left of the screen. A database sprang to life and, after a brief search, the computer produced Alex’s medical record. The doctor reviewed it silently before swivelling back in Alex’s direction, snagging a blood pressure cuff off the corner of the table.</p>
<p>“How have you been feeling?”</p>
<p>“Uh, pretty sick,” Alex admitted, watching the doctor secure the cuff around her arm and begin inflating it. “Very nauseous. I don’t remember being this sick with my nephew.”</p>
<p>“The nausea should ease up over the next few weeks,” Dr. Madison confirmed, eyeing the blood pressure display before deflating the cuff and removing it. The rip of the Velcro was deafening in the small space. “Your blood pressure is a bit high.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I wonder why.</em>
</p>
<p>“It’s been a stressful few weeks,” Alex explained meekly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache starting to mount in her temples.</p>
<p>“We’ll keep our eye on it.” Dr. Madison leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and clasping her hands around a knee. “When we last spoke, for your consultation, we talked a lot about risks . . . and your choices . . .”</p>
<p>Alex nodded, sucking in a shaky breath and tucking her hair behind her ears.</p>
<p>“I’m still not entirely sure what I want to . . . to do.  I did go to Maine Family Planning to explore the abortion option like we talked about. They opened a file and encouraged me to make a . . . decision . . . as soon as, you know, possible.”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison’s expression was empathetic and Alex suddenly wished the floor would open up and swallow her alive. She was mortified to be sitting there talking so candidly about an abortion as if she were a naïve and foolish teenager who had believed that her boyfriend would pull out in time.</p>
<p>
  <em>What sort of flake gets knocked up accidently in her forties? </em>
</p>
<p>“It’s a difficult decision,” the doctor murmured with a light nod. “Your husband, he’s-”</p>
<p>“Still out of town,” Alex lied, averting her eyes and staring intently at the straps on her sandals. “But he’s supportive of, of an abortion, if that’s what I want to do . . .”</p>
<p>
  <em>Well he would be, if he knew. At least I think he would be . . .</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m just really concerned about the risks,” she finished lamely, clutching the arms of the exam chair so tight that her knuckles turned white. It took significant effort to release her stranglehold and relax. “To the baby. To me. I don’t want to bring a child into the world to suffer, or struggle.”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison smiled kindly.</p>
<p>“I’m sure it must be very overwhelming, to have an unplanned pregnancy at this point in your life. But I can assure you that you aren’t the only woman who has been in this situation. I’ve had a number of patients your age, even slightly older, who have gotten pregnant and gone on to carry healthy babies with absolutely no issues for baby or mom.”</p>
<p>She picked up a pen from the desk and tapped it against her blotter absently.</p>
<p>“Yes, there are risks. Midlife pregnancies are always deemed high risk, for good reason. But you’re otherwise healthy and your NIPT results fell within the standard range. It’s no guarantee of course, but at this point your baby is not showing any increased risk for the genetic conditions caused by the chromosomes we tested for. That’s a positive sign.”</p>
<p>Alex experienced a ridiculous sense of victory at that revelation, as if she were somehow personally responsible, through an intentional act, of bringing that to be. Gritting her teeth, she methodically tamped down the errant flare of hope.</p>
<p>
  <em>No increased risk does not mean no risk. And there are tons of other risks that tests can’t measure. The risks to you, to your husband, to your marriage . . . there is no test for that. </em>
</p>
<p>“I guess I’ve got a lot to think about,” Alex muttered. She shifted in the exam chair, the sticky plastic tugging at her bare skin.</p>
<p>“Given that you’re undecided, did you still want to go through with the ultrasound today? We can always wait for a few weeks, to see what you decide, and by then maybe your husband will be back and he can be here.”</p>
<p>
  <em>He could be here now, if he knew. But he thinks I’m at work right now. </em>
</p>
<p>“No, I’d like to do it today,” Alex insisted quickly. “The more information I have, the better the decision I can make.”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison smiled as she stood. “Spoken like a true former detective.”</p>
<p>While the doctor rooted around in the cabinets, pulling out pieces of equipment and stacking them on the counter, Alex wiggled her jean shorts lower on her hips and drew her tank top up under her breasts. The sensation of the cool gel on her stomach sent her flashing back to the last time she had been in an office like this. Her sister Liz and brother-in-law Jared had been beside her then, holding hands and gazing with love at the ultrasound monitor as their baby squirmed inside her. Even though that baby had never been hers, and the type of love she had felt in that moment had been different, Alex still had a gratifying sense of being a part of something special.</p>
<p>Today, she just felt lonely.</p>
<p>Dr. Madison hesitated beside her, wand in hand.</p>
<p>“If you want, I can twist the monitor around so you can’t see it. And I can turn off the sound, so if we find the heartbeat . . .”</p>
<p>She left that statement hanging but Alex knew precisely what she was getting at.</p>
<p>
  <em>That way, you won’t have to see or hear the baby that you might end up killing . . .</em>
</p>
<p>“No, that’s okay,” Alex asserted firmly, although the situation was really anything but. Her hands shook and she clenched them into fists to still the tremors. “You can leave it.”</p>
<p>
  <em>If I’m going to take this baby’s life, I will damn well acknowledge it first. </em>
</p>
<p>She was exceedingly proud of herself for controlling her emotions as the doctor pressed the wand down on her abdomen. Alex forced herself to stare at the screen, to take it all in, to acknowledge the small shape that appeared in the black void of her womb, to absorb the frenetic thump of the heartbeat that made her own heart race. She tried to mentally distance herself, to observe objectively even though there was nothing objective about how she was feeling. She tried hard to pretend that she was looking at a stranger’s progeny, not a baby that she and Bobby had conceived in a moment of passion.</p>
<p>But she couldn’t.</p>
<p>Alex hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until Dr. Madison finally pulled the ultrasound wand away and handed her a towel to wipe off the remaining gel.</p>
<p>“Everything looks good. As of this moment, you have a very healthy-looking baby in there.”</p>
<p>Rearranging her clothes quickly, Alex swung her legs over the side of the maroon chair. The exam room suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if it were pressing in around her, squeezing all of the oxygen from her lungs. She needed to get out of there, fast, before a panic attack hijacked her body.</p>
<p> “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll let you know . . . what I decide.”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison regarded her carefully for a moment, head tilted to one side in a pose that was oddly reminiscent of Bobby.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t normally offer this, given you aren’t sure about your next step, but I can tell information is important to you. I can’t imagine it will be a factor in your decision, but the NIPT does come back with the sex of the fetus. Did you want to know?”</p>
<p>Alex bit her bottom lip, staring at the floor for only a moment before raising steady, resigned eyes to meet the doctor’s.</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Chapter 5 - Surprise</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>She was going to tell him. Today.</p>
<p>She had to.</p>
<p>She needed to know where he stood . . .</p>
<p>Alex made that decision as she hurriedly pushed through the glass doors of the medical office. Distracted as she was by her turbulent thoughts, she rudely let the door slam in the face of the woman trailing behind her, mumbling a belated apology under her breath. The temperature disparity between the icy interior and the sauna created outside by the midday sun was immediately apparent and the sudden change constricted her lungs. The heat had chewed up all of the freshness in the air during the brief time she had been inside; it was like trying to breathe through carpet. There wasn’t even the slightest lick of a breeze to shove around the overpowering humidity.</p>
<p>Dr. Madison’s practice was located in the heart of Little Falls, a twenty-five-minute drive from her office in Portland and roughly an hour from the cabin. That had been a strategic decision. In her current predicament, her selection of OBGYN had been as much about location as bedside manner or positive reviews. Her goal was to remain invisible, anonymous. She didn’t want an OBGYN who might know her, who could be an unwitting neighbor, who would potentially cross her path completely by chance at the grocery store or at the library.</p>
<p>Someone who would know what she might do . . .</p>
<p>Resilient weeds poked up through the cracks in the concrete and Alex tried compulsively to avoid them as she trotted down the building’s front steps, legs quivering with a nervous energy. Her skeleton was vibrating, ready to crawl straight out of her skin, and her heart pounded. She needed to move, to keep moving, to flee, before the panic caught up with her, sunk its claws into her flesh and dragged her down into the abyss. Her PTSD-induced panic attacks had subsided since she moved to Maine but the potential was always there, lurking just below the surface.</p>
<p>
  <em>Breathe . . . just . . . breathe.  You can handle this. </em>
</p>
<p>The mounting anxiety stripped her of appropriate caution. Frantic as she was to return to the safety and solitude of her trusted Honda, lost in visualizations of how she could break the news to her husband, Alex rounded the corner of the building without looking where she was going . . .</p>
<p>. . . and ran smack into someone else.</p>
<p>The impact of the collision sent Alex’s wallet and the other contents of her hand flying. Stumbling backward, she grabbed a nearby wall to steady herself, the rough red brick scraping the skin off the base of her palm. The other party staggered as well, their gym bag hitting the ground and spilling out onto the sidewalk.   </p>
<p>“God, I’m so sorry,” Alex muttered, face flaming with embarrassment.</p>
<p>She bent down to grab the other person’s bag. A purple yoga mat, perfectly rolled, had escaped and she tucked it back into the zippered compartment along with a pair of ballet flats and a bottle of water. When she straightened up to return the tote to its owner, shock rattled her system.</p>
<p>Faith.</p>
<p>Bobby’s ex-girlfriend.</p>
<p>“Alex?” The other woman appeared equally startled to see her but covered it quickly with a warm smile. “Wow, it’s been a while! Fancy quite literally running into you here!”</p>
<p>
  <em>Of all the damn people . . . What are the odds?</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, wow, it sure has been.” Realizing she was still clutching the green bag, Alex thrust it at Faith as if it had just bitten her. “How have you been?”</p>
<p>Dressed in a pink leotard and a pair of gray leggings, Faith radiated health. Her body was lean, her skin tanned and glowing. Her long curly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and the fingers that took her bag were freshly manicured. Her natural beauty never failed to make Alex feel sweaty, pale and frumpy.</p>
<p>“I’ve been good, how about you? I heard you and Bobby got married. Congratulations!”</p>
<p>The words were laudatory but there was something brittle in the set of Faith’s jaw. Although Bobby described his interactions with his ex as “amicable” now, it had taken them a while to get there. It was no secret that Alex was not Faith’s favorite person. Alex didn’t blame her. Not really. Bobby had ended his relationship with Faith to pursue a relationship with her after all.</p>
<p>If the roles had been reversed, well, she probably would have been a little chilly herself.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, thanks. It was just a brief ceremony at City Hall. We wanted something small, private. You know, not that many people.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yep, that’s what small means, genius.  </em>
</p>
<p>Pressing her lips together to stem any further prattling, Alex scratched at a dry elbow and attempted to shift the subject away from reminders of what Faith had lost.</p>
<p>WHO she had lost . . .  </p>
<p>“So, what’re you doing in Little Falls?”</p>
<p>Faith pointed across the street at a small, standalone building with a mint green roof and pale pink vinyl siding.  </p>
<p>“I’m teaching yoga over there at Health in Balance. It’s a bit of a drive from Portland every few days but it’s a great studio. I really like it there.”</p>
<p>A car pulled up to the stop sign on the corner, heavy bass thumping. Faith waited until it had pulled away before she continued.</p>
<p>“How about you? What brings you in all this way from your little piece of paradise by the lake?”</p>
<p>The melancholic edge was back in her voice, unresolved pain clearly lingering on the outline of the words. As Alex mentally scrambled, desperately seeking a plausible answer to a question she should have anticipated, Faith reached down to pick up the keys, wallet and piece of paper that had been knocked loose from Alex’s hand in the collision. When she suddenly recalled what was on that piece of paper she had been holding, Alex prayed feverishly for a rogue gust of wind to flare up and whisk it away.</p>
<p>No such luck.</p>
<p>As Faith’s fingers came into contact with the black and white ultrasound photo, the muscles in her toned back tensed visibly beneath the leotard. She paused before straightening, no doubt taking a moment to carefully arrange the neutral mask on her face.   </p>
<p>“Wow. I guess even more congratulations are in order!” Faith’s smile faded a bit at the corners. “You’re pregnant!”</p>
<p>A gaggle of wild and implausible explanations whizzed through Alex’s mind –</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m picking up the photo for a friend . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s an old ultrasound from when I was pregnant with my nephew . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I just found this on the street and was going to turn it in . . .</em>
</p>
<p>In the end, she dismissed them all. Faith wasn’t an idiot and she was standing right around the corner from the OBGYN. She shouldn’t have taken the photograph in the first place. She had no clue why she actually did. She had made a stupid choice and now she had to suffer the consequences.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah I am,” Alex murmured, clearing her throat and plucking the ultrasound from Faith’s fingers. The other woman held onto it a little longer than was strictly necessary. “It was . . . unexpected.”</p>
<p>Faith’s eyebrows had migrated up to her hairline. “How did Bobby take it?”</p>
<p>“Well, he was surprised,” Alex lied. “But he’s really happy about it.”</p>
<p>Something flickered in the other woman’s eyes but she extinguished it quickly.  </p>
<p>“Wow, that’s . . . surprising.”</p>
<p>The nausea that had been dormant for the majority of the day began to stir again low in her abdomen, stretching and rolling over, emerging from its slumber.</p>
<p>“Why do you say that?”</p>
<p>“Well, he made it very clear to me that he didn’t want any kids.” Faith adjusted the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “We were seriously talking about it at one point, a few months after we fell in love. I didn’t want to wait for marriage, I wanted to try sooner rather than later, knowing that neither of us was getting any younger, but he was completely against it. Said that with his family history of mental illness, he didn’t want to take the chance his kids would inherit it. He told me he wasn’t cut out to be a father.”</p>
<p>In that moment, the last shred of Alex’s naïve, unrealistic, childish fantasy involving Bobby being ecstatic about the news of her pregnancy tore apart and fluttered to the ground around her feet. All her unspoken fears and assumptions confirmed, the futility of hope laid bare before her eyes. She had known all of this instinctively, but had foolishly listened to the tiniest of voices in her head that had whispered:</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe. Just maybe . . .</em>
</p>
<p>She should have known better.</p>
<p>Alex suddenly realized that Faith’s lips were still moving but she hadn’t heard a single word that the other woman had said.</p>
<p>“. . . I mean, the man was paranoid about birth control. Believe you me, I heard more than one lecture on the fallibility of even the pill. He was able to quote some pretty obscure facts.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that sounds like Bobby,” Alex chuckled weakly, clutching her keys so hard the teeth bit into her fingers. “Well, he’s come around to the idea now. It’s not like he had much of a choice.”</p>
<p>Something dawned on Faith then and she frowned.</p>
<p>“Speaking of Bobby, where is he? I would’ve thought he would have been here for the ultrasound?”</p>
<p>“Oh, he’s out of town on his book tour,” Alex lied again. “He wanted to be here; it just didn’t work out.”</p>
<p>She couldn’t be sure that Faith believed her, although the other woman nodded her head as if she did.</p>
<p><em>That’s the problem with lying. Once you start, you think everyone else is too</em>.</p>
<p>“Well congratulations.”</p>
<p>A small group of young women, all clad in skin-tight yoga gear, approached the pink building on the opposite side of the street. When she caught their eyes, Faith waved and the women waved back.</p>
<p>“I’d better get to class. It’s good to see you again Alex. Take care. Best of luck with . . . everything.”</p>
<p>She was already several feet away when Alex muttered a weak goodbye and walked numbly a few blocks to where her car sat waiting patiently at the curb. As she slouched in the driver’s seat, staring at the pinpricks of blood on her scraped palm, it dawned on her that she should be grateful to Faith. In a matter of minutes, the woman had helped her make a decision that she had been struggling with for months.</p>
<p>There was no way she could have this baby.</p>
<p>Grabbing her cell phone out of the glove compartment, Alex called Maine Family Planning and made an appointment.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Bobby?”</p>
<p>Alex’s keys jingled as she hung them on the hook beside the door and kicked off her sandals. The turntable in the living room circled endlessly, filling the cabin with the melodies of CCR. The volume was set high, suggesting that her husband was outside somewhere and had turned it up so he could still hear the lyrics. She was just about to announce herself again, louder this time, when she heard his reply.</p>
<p>“Out back!”</p>
<p>Taking a detour to the bedroom, Alex buried the ultrasound photo under a pile of magazines in her bedside table. There was no point in showing it to him. She would get rid of it when he left for the next leg of his tour. It was superfluous now.</p>
<p>Stepping into the small walk-in closet, Alex tossed her sweat-soaked tank top into the hamper and pulled on a loose-fitting T-shirt while mentally finalizing her plan.</p>
<p>She had to tell him. Now. Not to understand where he stood anymore, but because Faith knew. Even though she would have preferred to just deal with it alone to avoid causing any strife in their marriage and protect Bobby from unnecessary stress, that wasn’t an option anymore. She had to tell him and she would, flat out. She would apologize. She would assure him that he didn’t need to worry, that she was going to take care of it. She would let him know that she already had an appointment booked for next Friday. That this was the best option for them, all of them. The safest option. In a week, things would be back to normal. It would be like it never happened.</p>
<p>
  <em>But it did.</em>
</p>
<p>The fragrance of grilling meat was suffocating as Alex stepped into the sunroom on her way to the back deck. She had made it halfway across the room when she heard Bobby’s voice again and this time another male voice responded.</p>
<p>
  <em>Great. We’ve got company. Of all the days. </em>
</p>
<p>The thought of having to entertain that night was extremely distressing. Alex actually considered stepping outside, greeting their guest and then pretending she had just been called back into work to deal with an urgent situation. She could hop back in her Civic, find a nearby sideroad, and hang out there until the unexpected visitor left. She seriously debated that for a second before deciding it sounded like a lot of effort and simply acquiesced.</p>
<p>The talk was going to have to wait.</p>
<p>Slapping a smile on her face, Alex stepped out onto the back deck and was shocked for the second time that day. Bobby stood beside the barbecue as anticipated but perched on the surrounding patio furniture were her sister Liz, her brother-in-law Jared and her nephew Nate. All the way from New York.</p>
<p>Grinning, Liz raised a wine glass in her direction.</p>
<p>“Surprise!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Chapter 6 - Excuses</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“You really didn’t know? Honestly?”</p>
<p>Liz’s curly blonde hair obscured her face as she leaned over, tucking the final corner of the fitted sheet over the edge of the pullout couch. The scorching hot day had effortlessly bled into a beautiful night and a lukewarm breeze, laced with the soothing smell of woodfire, floated into the sunroom through the open windows. Winged insects buzzed and bumped blindly against the window screens, entranced by the interior light. </p>
<p>“I had no clue, I swear.” On the other side of the couch, Alex ran a hand over the soft cotton to smooth out remaining wrinkles. “I was completely shocked to see you sitting there.”</p>
<p>“I find that so hard to believe.” Shaking her head, Liz grabbed a light blanket off the coffee table, fluffed it out and draped it over the bed. “You and Bobby both being former detectives . . . working together as long as you did. I wouldn’t have thought you two could keep secrets from each other anymore.”</p>
<p>A sarcastic bark of laughter nearly ripped from Alex’s throat. She snagged it at the very last second and crammed it back down. </p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, dear sister. You have absolutely no idea . . .</em>
</p>
<p>“Well, I was completely in the dark on this one.” A pillow sat on the hardwood floor by her feet and she tossed it onto the dressed mattress. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”</p>
<p>“You’re happy we’re here though, right?”</p>
<p>Alex glanced up at her sister, frowning, surprised by the question. Out on the lake, a waterfowl’s mournful cry echoed over the water.</p>
<p>“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”</p>
<p>Liz shrugged, her thin shoulders rising and falling under her light sweater. “I dunno. You’ve just been pretty quiet all night. I guess I was expecting a bit more enthusiasm.”</p>
<p>A blush of guilt colored Alex’s cheeks as she stared across the space at her pretty younger sibling. When had she become so transparent? She had always prided herself on her poker face, on her ability to put on the air of her choosing and maintain it no matter how she was feeling inside. It had served her well in her career but seemed to have abandoned her now, when she needed it the most. The sad part was that she thought she <em>had</em> been conveying enthusiasm, acting overly excited even. Clearly not enough.</p>
<p><em>You’re losing it, Eames</em>.</p>
<p>Skirting the cot, Alex drew her sister into a tight hug.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day. I’m thrilled that you guys are here. Really.”</p>
<p>That was a white lie. The truth was that the presence of her sister and family had completely thrown her off. She had geared herself so far up for the conversation she needed to have with her husband that their unexpected appearance had knocked her on her ass, left her disoriented, floating in a wretched limbo. When Bobby proudly announced they would be staying for the next five days for a long overdue visit, Alex had stifled a crazed scream of frustration. Her entire plan, out the window in a hot second. She couldn’t tell him, not now. This was a sensitive and private matter that had the potential to make the duration of their visit awkward and interminable. Her family didn’t deserve to be stuck in the middle of that drama.</p>
<p>Her confession would have to wait. In the meantime, she was going to have to do a hell of a better job of holding it together.</p>
<p>Bed preparations complete, the two women exited the sunroom and cut through the living room into the kitchen. The mechanical drone of an electric toothbrush emanated from the bathroom where Nate was in the process of getting ready for bed. The kitchen island was a complete mess, covered in leftovers from dinner, open bags of potato chips, dirty glasses, a gummy popsicle stick, a stack of unrinsed plates and liquor bottles of various shapes and sizes.  Alex started running warm water into the sink as Liz hopped up on a stool and shuffled the debris around absently.</p>
<p>“I know I’ve said it before but I’m so glad that you and Bobby finally got your heads out of your asses and hooked up. It sure took you long enough. I was starting to think it would never happen.”</p>
<p>Alex rolled her eyes but grinned, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear.</p>
<p>“Well, things were . . . complicated.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, what relationship isn’t? Regardless, I’m happy you figured it out.” Liz passed over a handful of plates and Alex dumped them one-by-one into the soapy water. “He’s a good man. He went to a lot of trouble to get us here to surprise you. It’s sweet.”</p>
<p>The vice in her chest tightening, Alex swallowed hard and nodded, watching the white porcelain of the final plate slip below the water’s surface.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he really is. He’s a very good man. I’m lucky.”</p>
<p>
  <em>He deserves far better than me. </em>
</p>
<p>Reaching across the table, Liz grabbed the souvenir shot glass they had brought back from their honeymoon in Vienna and a half empty bottle of tequila. She rocked the flagon back and forth, its golden contents sloshing.</p>
<p>“Have a shot with me?”</p>
<p>Alex had been mentally preparing for this conversation all night but her hands still trembled nervously. She had anticipated that an offer of alcohol would be forthcoming at some point. It was a part of her normal routine after all. She and Bobby often had a glass of wine with dinner and she would usually have a drink or two with her sister whenever they got together. After the stress of the day, she WANTED badly to have a few drinks and why not? There was nothing really stopping her. It didn’t matter now that she was having an abortion . . .</p>
<p>. . . and yet she couldn’t.</p>
<p>“Nah, I’ve cut out drinking for a bit. I’m trying to eat better, be healthier.” She tested out her pre-prepared excuse, weighing it in the air, hoping it came across as nonchalant as she wanted. “I’ve put on some weight since we got married. Got to get back into some good habits.”</p>
<p>Liz looked at her curiously for a moment, squinting slightly. “Really? I was actually going to ask if you had lost some weight. Your clothes are really loose on you.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yep. That’s what happens when you buy clothes a size bigger than usual. . .</em>
</p>
<p>“Well, thanks,” Alex replied, as cheerfully as she could manage. “But that’s not what the scale says.”</p>
<p>“Okay. I think you’re crazy, but suit yourself.” Shrugging, her sister poured herself a mouthful of tequila and then raised the shot glass in Alex’s direction.</p>
<p>“Here’s to good men.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was a full moon.</p>
<p>Somehow, that seemed appropriate.</p>
<p>The massive white orb loomed over the lake, its reflection rippling in the small waves. Stars freckled the sky around it, distant pinpricks of light and warmth. In the surrounding forest, small animals scurried in the underbrush, proactively seeking cover from night predators. Flames leapt in the firepit just off the shore, flickering and snapping and sparking.  An all-weather dark grey wicker conversation set circled the bonfire. It was there she found Bobby, stretched out on the loveseat. He had lit up a cigar, exhaling well-defined smoke rings into the night air. When a twig snapped under Alex’s sandal, announcing her approach, he twisted to look at her with a smile.</p>
<p>“They get Nate, uh, settled?”</p>
<p>“Yep.” Alex dropped one of the two beer bottles she held in the cup holder of the chair across from the love seat and placed the other on the table in front of her husband. “They’ll be back out soon. Just getting unpacked.”</p>
<p>Unable to sit still, her mind still churning, she set about organizing the leftover s’mores fixings that littered the patio table, shoving the last of the marshmallows back into the bag and tucking the graham crackers back into their plastic sleeve. She could feel Bobby watching her as he knocked the ash off his cigar and left it smoldering in one of the divots in the ashtray.</p>
<p>“I’ll clean that up later, love. Come here.”</p>
<p>Scooting over, Bobby patted the cushion beside him. He had imbibed his fair share that evening and his dark intelligent eyes were slightly glassy but no less astute.  His shirt was unbuttoned partway and it gaped open, giving her a healthy glimpse of broad chest and wiry hair. He was so handsome, all full lips and defined jaw, that butterflies fluttered in her stomach. When she got close enough, he grabbed her hips and settled her in his lap, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her temple.</p>
<p>“It was really nice of you to organize this, Bobby.” Alex lay her head on his shoulder, resting her forehead against his neck. “Thank you. It’s good to see them.”</p>
<p>He dropped a kiss in her hair, tightening his arms around her.</p>
<p>“I’m glad. You’ve seemed a bit, uh. . . sad . . . these last few weeks. I thought you might have been homesick, missing your family.”</p>
<p>The second wave of guilt of the evening crashed over her. Apparently today was not the first day her poker face had failed her.  </p>
<p>“You are so sweet. But I’m not homesick,” Alex murmured, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. “I can’t possibly be. My home is here with you now.”</p>
<p>The love, happiness and trust that she saw etched into Bobby’s face nearly broke her and had her confessing everything. To stop that particular dam from bursting, she tugged his face down to hers and kissed him firmly. When they finally pulled apart, more than a little breathless, Alex slipped a hand into his shirt and touched his chest.</p>
<p>“You taste like beer and cigars.”</p>
<p>“Sorry.” Bobby nuzzled the sensitive area below her ear, lips coasting down the cords of her neck. “Do you want me to go brush my teeth?”</p>
<p>She shook her head and used a finger to guide his mouth back over to hers. “No. I like it.”</p>
<p>For one blissful moment, with Bobby’s mouth covering hers, Alex forgot everything that was wrong in her life and just focused on the feel of the man she loved.</p>
<p>“Good Lord, get a room! Damn newlyweds.”</p>
<p>
  <em>And back to reality . . .</em>
</p>
<p>Liz’s high-pitched reprimand callously interrupted that bliss and Alex groaned as her sister and Jared cut across the slope of grass toward the fire pit. Reluctantly, she slipped off Bobby’s lap and sat beside him instead, draping her legs over his.  He dropped a hand onto her thigh and gave it a light squeeze as the other couple joined them.</p>
<p>“We have a room,” Alex retorted, shooting a mock threatening glare at her sister. “You should be careful what you wish for though. It’s right next door to yours.”</p>
<p>Plucking a graham cracker from its packaging, she launched it in her sister’s direction. Laughing, Liz batted it away, the square biscuit bouncing off her palm and dropping into the fire.</p>
<p>“Good point. I didn’t think that one through.”</p>
<p>“The cabin walls aren’t all that thick. Don’t worry, we’ll spare you this visit. But not for your benefit, for Nate’s. I’m not about to traumatize the nephew that I spent hours in labor to produce for you.” Settling her head back on Bobby’s shoulder, she picked at some white fuzz on her tights.  “Speaking of the devil, was he asleep before you came back down?”</p>
<p>“Yep, out like a light.” Jared lit up the cigar Bobby had left out for him. He inhaled deeply before letting the smoke trickle out through his nose. “He was exhausted. He just didn’t want to admit it.”</p>
<p>“What was up with him today anyway?” Alex asked with a frown. “He didn’t seem himself. Is this our first taste of pre-teen attitude? He was crusty with you guys.”</p>
<p>That was an understatement. The normally even-tempered boy had been polite, respectful and warm to Bobby and Alex but downright belligerent with his parents, ignoring them when they asked a direct question, snapping for no reason and refusing to go to bed.</p>
<p>Liz glanced at her husband quickly before nodding. “Yeah, he’s not real happy with us at the moment. And he’s letting us know it.”</p>
<p>“The joys of being a parent, huh?” Bobby grinned as he took a sip of his beer. “It’s a thankless job, that’s for sure!”</p>
<p>Alex’s stomach clenched. She shifted on the love seat, sliding her legs off of Bobby’s lap and dropping her feet to the grass as she grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip to try to mask her discomfort.</p>
<p>
  <em>Really? Of all the times to start talking about parenthood . . .</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s a right barrel of laughs,” Liz muttered, shaking her head and rolling her blue eyes. “Which makes what I’m about to tell you sound absolutely crazy.”</p>
<p>A tendril of anticipatory dread unwound in Alex’s gut as her sister smiled at Jared and placed her hand over his.</p>
<p>“We’re adopting a baby.”</p>
<p>Alex froze like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. The plastic of the water bottle snapped and crackled in protest as her grip on it tightened reflexively. Her mind went completely and entirely blank. A reaction was required, she knew that much, but what that reaction should be completely escaped her. It was just too damn close to home. She could feel Bobby watching her, silently offering the opportunity of first response, but no words were able to wiggle their way through the sand that had suddenly filled her mouth. Mercifully, he eventually stepped in to fill her silence.</p>
<p>“Hey, that’s great. Congratulations!”</p>
<p>The sound of his voice, too loud in her ears, jolted Alex’s brain back into gear. She nodded her head too many times and too fiercely, as if that would somehow compensate for the delay in response.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, wonderful! Congratulations.”</p>
<p>“We’ve been talking about it for a long time and finally started the process about a year and a half ago. Last week, we went to meet a little girl, she’s eleven months old in foster care right now. We bonded really quickly. There are still some legal hoops to jump through but we will start home visits next month and hopefully she will be ours before the end of the year.”</p>
<p>Alex gulped water almost desperately now, as if it were a magical elixir that would soothe the sharp stabs of pain that pierced her chest. She detested herself for being so self-centered and ruining what should have been a celebratory moment. Thankfully, Liz and Jared appeared oblivious to her inner turmoil as they raved about their little girl.</p>
<p>“Wow, that’s big news!” Bobby draped his arm over the back of the loveseat and let his fingertips rest lightly against the nape of Alex’s neck as he continued to pull her weight in the conversation. “We’re happy for you guys.”</p>
<p>“We’re happy too.” Jared lifted Liz’s hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “Nate, unfortunately, is less so.”</p>
<p>Bobby swatted at a mosquito that buzzed relentlessly between their ears. “Can’t be easy for him. He’s been an only child for a long time.”</p>
<p>“I get it.” Liz shrugged, taking a sip from her husband’s beer bottle. “I’m just hoping he’ll come around sooner rather than later. It’s going to be a big upheaval, for all of us, and we are going to need all hands on deck. Our nice quiet household will lapse into chaos but it just feels like it’s meant to be, you know? If we want to expand our family, adoption is our only option. We don’t want to pass up this golden opportunity . . .”</p>
<p>Liz’s eyes suddenly twinkled playfully and she waggled her brows at her sister from across the fire.</p>
<p>“. . . Unless of course <em>you’d</em> like to have another baby for us, Al?”</p>
<p>Alex choked on her most recent mouthful of water, gagging as the liquid coasted down her trachea and cut off her oxygen supply. She covered her mouth to stop the water from spraying out as she coughed and hacked, doubled over at one point, trying to suck in oxygen. Around her, the others howled with laughter.</p>
<p>“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Liz grinned, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to see how you would react. You didn’t disappoint. It was every bit as funny as I expected. Don’t worry, we would never ask you to do that again.”</p>
<p>Even with Bobby patting her back, it took Alex a minute to swallow the remaining water and catch her breath. When she could finally speak again, she tried to joke along with the rest of them, hoping they didn’t notice the shake in her voice.</p>
<p>“Geez, you just about gave me a heart attack!”</p>
<p>“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Liz giggled as she pulled her curly hair back into a messy ponytail. “I love you sis, but can you imagine? Being pregnant, at your age?”</p>
<p>Maneuvering a weak smile onto her lips, Alex allowed herself only a brief, almost unconscious, glance at her husband before returning her eyes to the safety of the fire.  </p>
<p>“No. I sure can’t.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Chapter 7 - Alone</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p>It felt good to be part of a family again.</p>
<p>The Old Marina Restaurant in Portland overlooked the harbor, its huge plate glass windows offering diners a picturesque view of commercial and pleasure vessels of various shapes and sizes as they motored in and out among the piers. The late afternoon sky was gun-metal gray, the air thick with the fragrance of rain. In the distance, pedestrians strolling along the slips started to put up umbrellas for protection against the same mist that was coating the restaurant’s siding in a wet sheath. White and grey seabirds dipped and dove around them, hunting for a meal beneath the water’s surface and within the open holds of the fishing trawlers that peppered the docks, teeming with the day’s catch.</p>
<p>Comfortable and dry inside, Bobby closed his plastic-coated menu with a creak and slid it onto the table. It was later than his typical dinner hour and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal to come. To his right, Alex cheerfully argued with Liz and Jared across the table. To his left, Nate ignored the adults and frowned at his tablet, tapping the screen rapidly. It was an identical scene to that which was probably playing out at the tables of billions of families around the world at that exact moment, but for Bobby it felt new and unique.</p>
<p>Precious even.</p>
<p>When his mother and brother had died, Bobby had given up hope of ever feeling a sense of belonging with family again. He had never been close with his extended family; his parents hadn’t supported or promoted that, each for their own reasons. Although in recent years he had connected with some distant relatives, enjoyed the occasional shared holiday dinner, he had pretty much resigned himself to being alone. He had often felt lonely even within his family, so what difference did it really make?</p>
<p>
  <em>The things we tell ourselves to survive . . .</em>
</p>
<p>Now he had a wife. A father-in-law, sisters-and-brothers-in-law. Nephews, nieces. People who greeted him warmly when they saw him, who remembered his birthday and sent him emails when they came across a joke they thought he might like. It was nice. Really nice. His world had expanded in ways that he had only dreamt of, that lifted him up in happiness and hope, that made the thought of ever being alone again seem a most desolate place.</p>
<p>He couldn’t help it. A part of him was waiting for the other shoe to drop . . .</p>
<p>“So? What’d you decide?”</p>
<p>Alex’s hand was warm as it rested on his knee. He turned to look at her with a smile, gratefully abandoning a train of thought that had been destined to derail. His wife had twisted her hair into a casual updo and the diamond earrings he had bought her for her last birthday glinted in her ears. Her skin glowed and he wondered, not for the first time, how she seemed to grow more beautiful each day while he deteriorated.</p>
<p>“I’m going with the Surf and Turf,” Bobby asserted with a nod, patting his stomach. “I’m starving even though we only had that ice cream a few hours ago. Must be the view.”</p>
<p>“That sounds good.” Alex picked at the corner of her menu absently, a small piece of the plastic peeling beneath her nail. “I think I’m going to get the Cobb Salad.”</p>
<p>He scanned her face curiously, head tilted to one side. That was . . . interesting. She <em>never</em> ordered a salad when they went out to eat. She had told him once that meals out were a treat and a chance for her to enjoy foods that she didn’t normally indulge in. Although she ate well, healthy and balanced, she didn’t analyze every calorie that went into her mouth, didn’t obsess about her weight (at least in front of him) and wouldn’t beat herself up if she scarfed a full package of Skittles on occasion. It was one of the many, many things he loved about her.</p>
<p>“Really? But you make those at home all the time.”</p>
<p>Before Alex could respond, their waiter appeared at the table, a bottle of wine displayed theatrically in his hands. He presented it with a flourish before removing its cork with a quiet pop and then placing it in the silver bucket he had brought to the table earlier. He took their orders with the swirl of a pen – Surf and Turf for Jared and Bobby, a hamburger and fries for Nate, a chicken penne dish for Liz and the Cobb Salad for Alex – and then disappeared from sight through a group of people being escorted to their table.</p>
<p>“Let’s have a toast.”</p>
<p>Reaching across Alex, Bobby plucked the bottle from its bucket and poured with a skilled hand for both Liz and Jared. When he moved to pour the crisp white wine into Alex’s glass, her hand shot out to cover the mouth of the goblet. He righted the bottle just in the nick of time to avoid dumping it all over her.</p>
<p>“None for me,” she murmured. “I’m not drinking tonight.”</p>
<p>Frowning, Bobby slowly placed the bottle on the table.</p>
<p>“But you love this wine . . .”</p>
<p>When his party had given him, as the fine wine connoisseur among them, the power to make the selection for the evening, he had intentionally chosen this vintage, knowing it was one of her favorites.</p>
<p>“Didn’t you get the memo, Bobby?” Liz smirked at them from across the table. “Your wife is on some sort of health kick. Trying to lose weight.”</p>
<p>An uneasy feeling began to brew in the depths of his gut as he looked back at his wife with a frown.</p>
<p>“What? Since when?”</p>
<p>Alex shrugged, color rising in her cheeks. Studiously avoiding his eyes, she folded her napkin into smaller and smaller squares. “I don’t know, a few weeks I guess.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Why didn’t you tell me?</em>
</p>
<p>Bobby opened his mouth to ask exactly that question but quickly closed it again. It wasn’t the time or place.</p>
<p>“Her loss,” Liz chirped merrily, lifting her glass and tilting it in Jared’s direction. “Cheers!”</p>
<p>The conversation soon veered to more agreeable topics, like the sights they had seen during their day long tour of Portland, but Bobby struggled to truly engage in the discussion. The wine scalded his throat on the way down and he had trouble concentrating, disquiet prickling along the surface of his skin. He tried to smile and nod in all the right places but found himself more and more just watching Alex, worried. A puzzle was coming together, pieces falling into place, and he didn’t like the picture it was creating.</p>
<p>Something was absolutely not right.</p>
<p>She had become aloof, distant, while he was away for his book tour and run hot and cold since he came back . . .</p>
<p>She jumped at any opportunity to avoid being alone with him . . .</p>
<p>This health kick, trying to lose weight that she didn’t have to lose . . .</p>
<p>He had wanted to believe that she was just homesick, and that this visit with her family would set things right again. That it would bring the light back to her eyes that had been there during their honeymoon and their first few weeks of marriage.</p>
<p>It hadn’t. He had clearly been totally off the mark.</p>
<p>And if she wasn’t homesick . . . well, he could only think of one other alternative.</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s someone else.</em>
</p>
<p>“Hey, Alex.”</p>
<p>Bobby had been so lost in miserable ponderance that he had failed to notice the young man approaching their table. Probably late twenties, early thirties, he was fit, muscled, with shaggy blond hair and blue eyes. He could have passed for a model had there been trade in modelling in Portland. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a button-up shirt with a set of dark, expensive sunglasses perched on top of his head. His smile was polite and his eyes acknowledged everyone around the table, but his focus was clearly on Alex.</p>
<p>“Eric, hi!” She greeted the stranger with more animation than he had witnessed from her all day. “Out for dinner?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m here with a few guys from the office.” Eric jerked his thumb toward a booth on the opposite side of the room where three other men were seated. “I was just walking past and I heard your voice, thought I would say hi. Sorry to interrupt.”</p>
<p>“This is my sister Liz, my brother-in-law Jared, and my nephew Nate.” Alex gestured to each person in turn. “They’re visiting from New York. And this is my husband, Bobby.”</p>
<p>The younger man tried to quell the surprise – and disappointment - that flitted across his features but he wasn’t fast enough. When he extended a hand in greeting, Bobby hesitated for a moment, teeth gritted, but eventually stood and shook it.</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”</p>
<p>Bobby nodded but didn’t return the sentiment, sitting back down heavily, banging the table hard enough to jostle the silverware. Alex shot him a look but quickly pasted a smile back on her face.</p>
<p>“I work with Eric at the PI firm. We’ve partnered together on a few investigations recently.”</p>
<p>Eric’s enthusiastic nods made him look like a bobble head. Bobby suddenly felt the urge to smack him and knock that fool head off.</p>
<p>“It’s been great. Alex has taught me so much. Not many people around here can say they’ve trained with a real NYPD Detective. I feel very lucky to have her as my partner.”</p>
<p>A trio of waiters suddenly appeared as if out of thin air, balancing large silver platters loaded with food. When he realized he was blocking their access to the table, Eric stepped aside to allow them to approach.</p>
<p>“Well, I’d better let you enjoy your food. It was nice to meet y’all.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Y’all. Damn country bumpkin.</em>
</p>
<p>As he turned to leave, Alex dropped the napkin she had been crumpling onto the table.</p>
<p>“Wait, I’ll walk over with you, say hi to the rest of the guys.”</p>
<p>Bobby fumed impotently as he watched Eric and Alex cross the restaurant, shoulders brushing. The other man touched her arm and then said something that made Alex laugh. The expression on Eric’s face as he looked at her was so painfully familiar that Bobby had to turn away.  </p>
<p>It was the same way he had looked at Alex once, back when they were only partners, back when he had been in love with her but unable to admit it. A look of admiration, respect . . . and something more.</p>
<p>Once the servers had vanished, scurrying away like cockroaches desperate to avoid the light, Jared clapped his hands together sharply.</p>
<p>“This looks delicious! Let’s eat!”</p>
<p>Bobby’s first bite tasted like sawdust.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>The Kevlar vest dug into her side. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She had pulled it on hastily and only realized at that very moment that it wasn't sitting right. It was too late now, as she took her first tentative steps down the corridor of Advent Travel, to adjust for comfort. Her hands were otherwise occupied, keeping her gun levelled at the warm light at the end of the hall. A fat drop of sweat raced down the curve of her spine at the same instant a cluster of smaller droplets broke loose on her forehead. She wiped them away quickly on the sleeve of her T-shirt before they had a chance to trickle down into her eyes and blind her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She stepped carefully, every movement planned and intentional, hyper aware of how loud the smallest noise would be in the abyss of silence that enveloped her. Out of the corner of one eye, she could see her partner doing the same, advancing with a delicacy that was impressive for a man of his generous frame. Five feet from the open doorway they halted simultaneously, as if they were matter and shadow. Here, she could discern muffled sounds coming from the kitchenette - shuffling feet, the low rumble of a voice and . . . something else. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A familiar sound, but just out of her current mental reach . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Catching Ferriera’s eye with a slight nod of her head, she motioned to a spot ten feet ahead of them on his side of the hall, just past a heavy metal door that served as an emergency exit. If she could sneak over there without being seen, they would have the room covered from both sides of the doorway. It would have to be her; her partner's size would virtually guarantee that someone would see him slip through the light. They couldn't take the chance it would be the wrong someone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her partner returned her nod and, without words, the plan was set.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Inching forward carefully, Ferreira craned his neck to peer into the kitchenette. Her entire body tensed in anticipation of the leap that she was about to make, her hamstrings vibrating with adrenaline. She had to move quickly, stealthily. No mistakes, not even the slightest squeak of rubber sole on linoleum. She had to be a ghost.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ferreira nodded and she took off like a flash, darting through the light to the other side of the hallway.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No outcry from the room. No gunshots. No sounds of pursuit. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mission accomplished.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then she heard it again. That sound, the one that she couldn’t quite identify through the haze of adrenaline, but that she recognized . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It was a baby’s cry.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit, he’s got a kid in there?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From her position on the other side of the door, she could now see the part of the kitchenette that her partner could not. Between the two of them, they had a clear view of the small huddle of people who sat, side by side, along the back wall. Their colorful shoes created a rainbow against the white tile. She didn’t see a baby, but she could still hear its plaintive cries. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The subject himself, dressed in a gray business suit with a navy vest underneath, alternated between the partners' fields of view, leaving hers and entering his, leaving his and entering hers, as he paced back and forth in front of the huddled audience. Dressed as he was, he wouldn't have seemed out of place if it weren't for the AK-47 that dangled from his right hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A tinny voice crackled in her ear, nearly making her jump. It only said a single word through her earpiece, but that single word flooded her system with relief and she realized she had been waiting anxiously for it since they first pushed through the glass doors that led to the foyer of the office.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The SWAT team had arrived. Finally. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now all her and her partner had to do was hold and secure. Engaging the suspect was a task that belonged to someone else. Unless . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Spoke too soon.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A tall man sat sandwiched between a middle-aged woman with gray streaks in her hair and a round-faced young man in his twenties. When Alex examined him more closely, a bolt of fear struck her like lightning.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Bobby.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her husband’s dark eyes followed the subject as he paced back and forth, the tense set of Bobby’s shoulders giving the impression of a coiled rattler preparing to strike. Watching him shift his weight and turn his face up to glare at his captor, she mentally willed him to hang in there just a little bit longer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The baby’s cries ramped up in intensity, feeding off the choking hostility in the room. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shhh, it’s okay, little one. Help is on the way. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Bobby, please, don’t provoke him . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If her mental pleading reached her husband, he chose to ignore it. Helplessly, she watched as he sat up straighter and began speaking from his place on the floor. His specific words were inaudible but the deep timbre and sharp tone that floated through the quiet were clearly not meant to de-escalate. The subject turned to Bobby, cocked his head and pressed the AK-47 against the other man’s temple.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The baby started to scream.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No, no, no, no. Shit!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Alex burst out of the shadows into the doorway of the kitchenette and leveled her gun at the suspect.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Police! Drop your weapon!"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As the subject turned, time assumed an unhurried crawl. Ferreira moved forward to join her in the doorway and, in what felt like slow motion, together they resumed the call for the subject to drop his gun. Her eyes were so focused on the inky black of his AK-47 that at first she failed to notice the other weapon that sat strapped to his chest, mostly concealed under the navy blue vest.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The bomb exploded in an epic flash of light that blinded her and with a sonic boom that deafened her. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was dead.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yet she wasn’t. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was alive and still standing in the corridor, alone now. Her partner was gone, Bobby was gone, all of the other people in the room . . . vanished. Not blown to bits, just gone. As if they had never been there at all. The corridor and the kitchenette were empty and clean, almost sterile. The baby’s cries had stopped.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Alex’s knees gave out and she slumped against the wall for support, weak and in shock. The gouge of the vest into her side became unbearable and she yanked at the straps that held it in place as she dropped to the floor. Something wet and sticky coated her hands. Dazedly, she held them up to the light and found them bright red with blood. Confused, she stared down at her vest. The outside was intact, fabric smooth and unviolated. It was only when she pulled it apart that she found the source of the bleed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her entire abdomen gaped open, a mass of bone and blood, tissue and hair and the tiniest of fingers.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Alex shot straight up in bed, suffocating, gasping for breath. Her hands were clawing at her abdomen and she jerked them away, panicked, scanning for blood.</p>
<p>They were clean.</p>
<p>Her stomach rose and fell frantically as her lungs strained for air, but no blood stained her camisole either. Lifting up the cotton layer to under her breasts, she found the exposed skin covered in a sheen of sweat but unblemished.</p>
<p>
  <em>Just a dream.</em>
</p>
<p>Shaking profusely, she flopped back on the bed, closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. Outside, a steady rain pinged off the window panes.</p>
<p>
  <em>Inhale for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight. You’re okay. It was just a dream.</em>
</p>
<p>A familiar dream, for the most part. One that had set up residence in her subconscious after a traumatic incident several years ago. This was the first time, however, that Bobby had made an appearance. The first time she had heard a baby’s cry. The first time she had seen herself . . . shredded . . . from the inside. Those were unpleasant new additions.</p>
<p>
  <em>Stop it. It was just a dream. A bad one. The worst one you have had in a long time. But only a dream.</em>
</p>
<p>Her pajamas were drenched and clung to her body in uncomfortable places. As the sweat dried, the surface of her skin cooled and a shiver travelled up her spine. Wearily, Alex rolled over toward the center of the bed, seeking out the warmth, strength and comfort of Bobby’s body, craving it as she often did after a nightmare.</p>
<p>His side of the bed was empty.</p>
<p>With a frown, Alex glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Three forty-three in the morning. No light eked out from under the ensuite door. She was alone in the bedroom. Crawling out from under the covers, she stripped out of her soggy pajamas and rooted through Bobby’s dresser, pulling on one of his T-shirts. It came down nearly to her knees and the hem tickled her thighs as she slipped out of the bedroom and into the living room. The cabin was dark, quiet except for the steady tick of the grandfather clock and the drone of rain on the roof. The living room was empty, the door to the spare room closed. The springs in the pullout couch in the sunroom squeaked as Nate squirmed in his sleep.</p>
<p>The den’s door was also closed but a weak yellow light snuck out around the frame, giving the hollow wood a halo. Alex stepped inside, re-closing the door quietly behind her. Bobby was seated at his desk, his laptop open. The text of the document on the screen reflected illegibly in the lenses of his reading glasses as he looked up, surprised.</p>
<p>“Bobby, it’s almost four in the morning.” Alex leaned against the wall and folded her arms over her chest. “Come to bed.”</p>
<p>He dropped his gaze back to his laptop. “I can’t sleep. Thought I would try to write. What’re you doing up?”</p>
<p>She shrugged. “Night terror.”</p>
<p>That got his attention again, his head snapping up, dark, intelligent eyes concerned and assessing. She hated when he looked at her like that. Like he could see straight into her heart and lay all her secrets bare.</p>
<p>“Been a while since you had one of those.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Guess I was due.”</p>
<p>Pushing off the wall, Alex came around to stand behind him, strategically escaping his intense gaze. She wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped a kiss on top of his head.</p>
<p>“How’s the writing going?”</p>
<p>“Not good. I’m still blocked. Haven’t written a chapter since I left before my, uh, last tour.”</p>
<p>“You’ll find your groove again. Marc has got you running around the world promoting your first book. How can he honestly expect you to have the time or brain capacity to work on your next one?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Alex,” Bobby muttered, jabbing at his keyboard with one finger. “Because he’s a publisher I guess, and that’s what publishers expect authors to be able to do?”</p>
<p>There was a sharp edge to the remark that seemed uncalled for given the banal and rhetorical nature of her question. Stiffening slightly behind him, Alex bit the inside of her cheek and decided to let it go. She was in no mood to fight. All she really wanted was for him to take her in his arms, to hold her, to kiss her, to peel her T-shirt off and make love to her until she forgot there was anything else in the world but the two of them. And then afterward, she wanted him to whisper in her ear that everything was going to be just fine.</p>
<p>The latter was a silly, childish thing to wish for. The former, well, that had some potential . . .</p>
<p>“Well, I’m sure the writer’s block won’t last forever.” Alex forced herself to relax, nuzzling the sensitive place where his neck and collarbone met. “Once my family leaves in a few days and things get back to normal around here, I bet your muse returns.”</p>
<p> “I hope so.”</p>
<p>Bobby’s attention had returned to his laptop and she felt a momentary twinge of irritation at his lack of response. She wasn’t used to having to work this hard to get a reaction from him. Stepping it up a notch, she kissed the shell of his ear and tightened her arms around his neck.   </p>
<p>“It’s cold in our bedroom.”</p>
<p>“Mmm.” Bobby moved the cursor over to highlight a word and then hit the delete key. “You want me to get you a blanket off the top shelf of the closet?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, for fuck’s sake. Are you really that dense tonight, Goren?</em>
</p>
<p>Dropping her arms, Alex circled in front of him and pushed his chair back until there was enough room for her to squeeze in between him and the desk. Closing the laptop forcefully, she straddled his legs and lowered herself onto his thighs, reaching behind to flick off the only source of light in the room, his old-fashioned green-shaded desk lamp. With the curtains closed, the den would be just dark enough to hide the changes in her body. Emboldened, she bit at the cords of his neck and deftly dipped a small hand under the elastic of his sweatpants.</p>
<p>“No, see, I want my husband to warm me up.”</p>
<p>Bobby made a noise low in the back of his throat that could have been a growl or a groan, it was hard to tell.</p>
<p>“We can’t. Your family-”</p>
<p>“Is fast asleep,” Alex interrupted, maneuvering her hand lower. “And this room is probably the most soundproof in the whole cabin. All your bookshelves are natural noise dampeners.”</p>
<p>She leaned forward to kiss him, but Bobby grabbed an arm to hold her in place as he withdrew her hand from his pants.</p>
<p>“Alex . . . don’t.”</p>
<p>She drew away with a frown, shocked. He had never, in the history of their relationship, refused her before. She knew his sex drive well, and was hyper aware of the fact that they hadn’t been intimate in well over a month. It should have been a slam dunk, but it wasn’t.</p>
<p>And that made her nervous. Very nervous.</p>
<p>“Is something wrong?” Alex asked softly, letting her hands rest on her thighs.</p>
<p>It was a question that she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to.</p>
<p>Reaching around her, Bobby flicked the desk lamp back on. He exhaled roughly, rubbing almost violently at his eyes.</p>
<p>“I need to ask you something.”</p>
<p>
  <em>OH SHIT.</em>
</p>
<p>Her heart started to thump heavily and she swallowed hard, the saliva getting stuck in her throat like a translucent plug.</p>
<p>“Okay . . .?”</p>
<p>Did he suspect? Surely not. Did he KNOW?</p>
<p>Was that an email from Faith that had been on his screen? She didn’t think they corresponded via email, but she had never directly asked.</p>
<p>Bobby held her gaze for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. He opened his mouth a few times but then closed it before speaking. She raised her eyebrows in question and waited impatiently for him to go on.</p>
<p>When he finally did, she wished he hadn’t.</p>
<p>“Are you having an affair with Eric?”</p>
<p>The words hit her like a slap in the face. Reeling, Alex scrambled off his lap, reversing so fast that the back of her legs collided with his desk so hard it would probably leave a bruise.</p>
<p>“WHAT?”</p>
<p>She half expected him to say that he was joking, teasing her, to smile and laugh.</p>
<p>He didn’t. His expression was deadly serious, his eyes sad.</p>
<p>“You heard what I, uh, said. Are you having an affair? With Eric? With . . . someone else?”</p>
<p>The accusation rendered her completely speechless. She stared down at him disbelievingly, so shocked that she could barely think straight. Her voice, when it returned, was just shy of a whisper.</p>
<p>“Why in the world would you think that?”</p>
<p>“That’s not an answer.”</p>
<p>“That’s because I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” Alex hissed. She moved around to the opposite side of the desk to create more space between them, bumping one of the books that had been resting on a corner with her hip. It fell to the floor with a thud.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe you think I would do that to you. To us. I thought you knew me better than that.”</p>
<p>She was mortified when angry tears started to fill her eyes and threatened to leak down her cheeks.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Bobby slumped in his chair, fingers running over the edge of the desk, tracing the patterns in the wood. His anxious and forlorn expression dissipated the momentary surge of anger and purged it from her system, leaving her numb. Alex closed her eyes, regrouping mentally, and then lowered herself into the armchair in front of his desk. </p>
<p>“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”</p>
<p>Bobby folded his hands over his stomach. “There are just so many things you didn’t tell me. That you had a new partner. That you’re on some diet.”</p>
<p>“That’s because there’s nothing to tell. I don’t have a new partner; we are <em>partnering</em> on an assignment. It’s different, it’s not like Major Case. We’re colleagues. You know I work with other investigators sometimes, depending on the case. And it’s not a diet. I’m just trying to eat healthier.”</p>
<p>He seemed unconvinced. “I saw the way he looked at you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, come off it,” Alex scoffed, dismissing that with a wave of her hand. “He’s probably twenty years younger than me. He’s got better options.”</p>
<p>“He calls you Alex.”</p>
<p>“Well yeah, because it’s my name,” she retorted without real malice. “So did most people at Major Case. It was only you who insisted on calling me Eames.”</p>
<p>“He seemed surprised that you were married.”</p>
<p>Alex had noticed that too but foolishly hoped it had been lost on her husband. She should have known better.</p>
<p>“I guess it just never came up. You know me, I don’t talk about personal things at work.”</p>
<p>
  <em>And I’ve been a bit preoccupied with the little human growing inside me. </em>
</p>
<p>Bobby tilted his head to one side, eyes roving over her face. She was reminded, not for the first time, of how intimidating he must have been to witnesses and perps.  </p>
<p>“I thought it might have been because you stopped wearing your wedding rings.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit. </em>
</p>
<p>“I’m wearing my wedding rings,” Alex insisted feebly, holding up her hand in evidence. The diamond of her engagement ring and the stones of his mom’s – her - wedding ring, gleamed even in the weak light.</p>
<p>“Yeah, tonight. For the first time since I’ve been back.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, I would wear them more often if your kid would stop making my fingers swell. </em>
</p>
<p>Heaving herself out of the armchair, Alex came back to sit on the edge of the desk beside him. Gently, she placed her left hand on top of his left hand. The white gold of his ring was a pleasant contrast against the yellow gold of hers.</p>
<p>“I don’t like wearing them to work. I’m worried I’m going to lose them. Especially your Mom’s, that’s irreplaceable. It’s not an indication that I’m having an affair.”</p>
<p>Bobby examined her face for one long last moment before his body visibly folded in on itself, as if the tension holding it together had suddenly evaporated.</p>
<p>“You’ve been so distant with me the last few weeks. I just wasn’t sure if you were still happy . . . with me, in our marriage. I know I’m not always-”</p>
<p>“Bobby, stop.”</p>
<p>Alex cut him off, pulling him into a tight hug, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. Guilt ravaged her heart. In her desire to protect him from her secret, she hadn’t even considered the narrative that he might be creating in the absence of the truth. She felt horrible that her inability to manage this with grace had made him question her feelings.</p>
<p>
  <em>Some wife you are.</em>
</p>
<p>After a minute, she reluctantly pulled away and perched back on the corner of the desk, their knees still touching.</p>
<p>“I’m very happy with you. There’s no one else, I promise. I waited over twelve years to be with you. I’m not about to throw it all away for some stupid fling. I would do anything to protect what we have. Whether my rings are on or off, it doesn’t matter. I’m all yours. Only yours.”</p>
<p>His tortured expression finally relaxed into a relieved smile.</p>
<p>“That makes me feel so much better. I don’t know what I would have done if . . .”</p>
<p>He let that thought float, unfinished, out into the universe. Alex looked back down at his hand, at the uninterrupted circle of his ring, representing an eternity of love, and she knew that it was time. Not the ideal time, not a great time, or even a good time really. But it was THE time.</p>
<p>She had to tell him.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry if I’ve been distant lately. It’s just, well . . .”</p>
<p>Alex licked her lips nervously and cleared her throat to try to lubricate what had become a scratchy, dry wasteland. He watched her curiously, eyes soft and sleepy now the heavy burden on his shoulders had been lifted. All she had to do was spit out a simple sentence and the burden on hers would be removed as well.</p>
<p>“Bobby, I’m p-”</p>
<p>A knock on the den door startled them both.</p>
<p>“Aunt Alex?” Nate’s voice was muffled through the wood.</p>
<p>Skirting the desk, Alex raced over to the door and yanked it open. Her nephew stood there, hair mussed, face puffy.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, buddy?”</p>
<p>“I can’t get the window in the sunroom closed. The rain’s coming in and there’s water all over the floor.”</p>
<p>It was only then that she realized the rainfall that had been steady when she crossed the threshold of the den had graduated to torrential. It thundered down, whipped around by a strong wind. The cabin was ripe with the smell of it.</p>
<p>“Ah sh- . . . crap.” Alex slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead. “I forgot we left that open. Sorry bub. You go lay down in my bed and we’ll get it cleaned up.”</p>
<p>As Nate disappeared into their bedroom, Bobby and Alex ran into the sunroom, skidding and sliding on the slippery floor. He fought to get the window closed, the front of his shirt growing damp, while she grabbed a mop and bucket out of the foyer closet and started sop up the liquid. The clean-up effort took a full twenty minutes and by the time they returned to their room to retrieve Nate, he was fast asleep, snoring lightly.</p>
<p>“Don’t wake him,” Bobby whispered, touching her arm gently. “He can have my half of the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room.”</p>
<p>She wanted to argue but had no fuel left in the tank. “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her softly. “Get some sleep. I love you.”</p>
<p>As he turned away, Alex tried with all her might to re-summon the words that had been on the tip of her tongue not twenty minutes earlier, but she failed.</p>
<p>They had disappeared into the depths once more, along with her courage.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Chapter 8 - Family</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“They’re going to sleep well tonight.”</p>
<p>A smear of clumped flour sliced across Liz’s cheek like a crusty scab as she came to stand beside Alex in the sunroom, drying her hands on a tea towel. Her curly hair had gone frizzy in the humidity and it billowed around her face like a cloud.</p>
<p>Out on the lake, Jared, Nate and Bobby were goofing around on the wooden swim platform that bobbed fifty yards out from the shore. The two men had picked the boy up by his feet and armpits and were swinging him back and forth, threatening to toss him off the platform, while her nephew laughed and tried to wiggle free. When they finally threw him in, the momentum made Bobby lose his balance and he fell into the water as well. Nate greeted him with a retaliatory splash as he surfaced. Jared cannonballed in to join the fray, saturating them all and spurring the battle into a war.</p>
<p>Alex huffed out a laugh. “Men. Do they ever grow up?”</p>
<p>“Not in my experience.” Liz swatted at a mosquito that landed on her forearm. “That’s why I’m so excited we’re adopting a girl. Won’t it be nice to even out the genders in this particular group? There is far too much testosterone.”</p>
<p>Alex smiled weakly but said nothing. Nate had hopped up onto Bobby’s back, clinging to him like a spider monkey. Bobby walked them backward, reversing into deeper and deeper waters, until he could squat down and dunk them both. Further out, a kayak sliced through the smooth lake like a hot knife through a brick of ice cream.</p>
<p>“He’s so good with Nate,” Liz continued, nudging her sister with a shoulder. “He told us this morning that Bobby was fast becoming his favorite uncle.”</p>
<p>“That’s sweet. Don’t tell Johnny and Mark though.”</p>
<p> “Yeah, they’d be pissed. Losing the title to the newcomer.” Liz grinned briefly at the thought before growing serious. “Hey, have you and Bobby ever considered adoption?”</p>
<p>Alex only barely managed to smother the bout of hysterical laughter that bubbled up in her chest.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, I’ve considered it. But not in the way you’re thinking. </em>
</p>
<p>“No, we, uh, we’ve never talked about it.”</p>
<p>“You should. You guys would be great parents.” Liz linked her arm through her sister’s and squeezed. Outside, the boys were batting a beachball around in the water. “I get that you wouldn’t want a baby at your age, but there are lots of older kids in the system looking for a home.”</p>
<p>Grunting noncommittally, Alex made a show of glancing at her watch before abruptly changing the subject.</p>
<p>“It’s almost five-thirty. We should probably get stuffing the pierogis.”</p>
<p>Liz hummed merrily as they traipsed through the living room and Alex clenched her teeth, locking her jaw, to avoid barking at her.  Her day had started off with a massive headache that lingered for most of the morning. It had left her feeling weak, warm, shaky and unable (or perhaps just unwilling) to tolerate the younger woman’s seemingly interminable cheerfulness.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe how fast this trip has gone,” Liz chirped obliviously, trailing a thin hand along the top of the sofa as they passed. “It sucks we have to go back to the city tomorrow. At least we can celebrate Bobby’s birthday early before we go since we won’t be here on the actual day this year.”</p>
<p>“It means a lot to Bobby that you want to celebrate with him.” Alex lifted her long hair up off her neck, trying to cool off. Sweat stained the back of her T-shirt. “I just hope that dinner turns out all right. I’ve never made pierogis before and we both know cooking is not my forte. The bar is set pretty high; it’s his mom’s recipe. If they turn out horrible, he’s going to be disappointed.”</p>
<p>Liz shook her head doubtfully. “I can’t imagine anything you do ever disappointing him, Al.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, if only you knew . . .   </em>
</p>
<p>In the kitchen, the combination of odors did her in.   </p>
<p>While she had been standing in the sunroom, Liz had fried the bacon and onion on the stove. Alex had successfully held it together with some shallow breathing while preparing the chicken and beef filling earlier but the addition of that greasy third meat and the acrid smell of hot oil in the deep fryer was too much. Pressing her lips together, she swallowed the first wave of bile, cringing as it scalded all the way back down. </p>
<p>Busy dispensing soap into her hands, Liz was too distracted to notice her sister’s face turn an unsightly shade of green.</p>
<p>“So, where should we start?”</p>
<p>The second wave, Alex couldn’t keep down.</p>
<p>Clapping a hand over her mouth, she bolted for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before retching and throwing up. The third and fourth waves were right on the heels of the second, slightly less potent but no more pleasant. When they passed, Alex flushed the toilet and lowered herself to the floor, muscles trembling. The ceramic tile was blissfully cool and slowly her stomach settled as she stretched her legs out in front of her.</p>
<p>
  <em>Inhale. Exhale. You got this.</em>
</p>
<p>She had a plausible excuse – food poisoning from their takeout lunch yesterday – already in the chamber when the bathroom door creaked open to reveal Liz, looking both confused and concerned.</p>
<p>And then the lightbulb clicked on.</p>
<p>Her sister’s eyes slowly grew wider as she stared at Alex sitting on the floor.</p>
<p>“Not drinking . . . wearing baggy clothes . . . scent sensitivities . . . throwing up . . . You’re pregnant.”</p>
<p>Resting her head against the wall, Alex gave it up and nodded.</p>
<p>Liz screamed. An honest to goodness scream, as if someone were stabbing her, and Alex nearly jumped out of her skin. She waved her hands frantically to shush the younger woman but her sister ignored her. </p>
<p>“Oh my God, you’re PREGNANT!” Liz screamed again, pressing her palms against her cheeks. “I can’t believe it. Oh my GOD! Yes! YES!”</p>
<p>She wrapped Alex in a hug so tight that it strangled the warning on the tip of her tongue, then Liz bolted out of the room, yelling her husband’s name at the top of her lungs. Panicked, Alex scrambled to her feet, fighting off a wave of dizziness, and raced through the kitchen hot on her sister’s tail. Liz had a healthy enough head start that she was able to make it through the living room and was just about to cross into the sunroom when she finally caught up and jerked her back.</p>
<p>“Quiet, please!” Alex hissed, glancing out the window quickly before pulling her sister behind the dividing wall. Nate, Jared and Bobby were wading out of the lake, staring up at the cabin. She didn’t have long before they would be banging down the front door to investigate the racket.</p>
<p>“You can’t say anything,” she whispered, gripping her sister’s arm firmly. “Bobby doesn’t know.”</p>
<p>Frowning, Liz was about to ask the obvious question when the screen door swung open and the men piled into the cabin. They had towels slung over their shoulders but hadn’t taken the time to dry off. Their sodden trunks dripped steadily onto the laminate. Nate hovered outside, peeking in anxiously.</p>
<p>Jared was out of breath from the sprint, broad shoulders rising and falling rapidly.</p>
<p>“Honey, what’s going on? Are you okay? I heard you screaming.”</p>
<p>For one terrifying moment, Liz’s gaze drifted past her husband to Bobby and Alex thought she was going to spill the beans. When her sister glanced back over at her, she poured as much pleading as possible into her expression.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, don’t . . .</em>
</p>
<p>With a stifled sigh, Liz forced a smile onto her face.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just thought I saw a mouse.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The last bite of delectable fried potato dumpling put him over the edge.</p>
<p>Pushing back from the table, Bobby groaned and patted his stomach, grateful for the elastic waist of his sweatpants. He was the last to finish, the rest of the family having already shoved away their plates and graduated to sipping on glasses of water and wine as the sun descended toward the horizon, bright orange light staining the walls of the sunroom.</p>
<p>“That was amazing. I’m stuffed.”</p>
<p>In the chair to his left, Liz rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “So? Truth time. How’d we do? Close to how Momma made them?”</p>
<p>“Exactly like Mom made them. Every bit as tasty. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Open your presents now, open your presents,” Nate crowed eagerly. He rocked his chair back and forth on two legs until Jared grabbed him and forced all four feet to the floor.</p>
<p>A small pile of colorfully wrapped presents sat near Bobby’s right elbow. He felt a childish rush of excitement and anticipation as he spread the pile out, examining each package with curiosity. Birthdays had never been a big thing in his family. His mother had tried but more often than not had spent special occasions locked in her bedroom, paralyzed by the pressure. At some point, he had come to see the day as the same as any other, the date not worthy of any celebration.  The last few years, with Alex, that had slowly started to change. Birthdays were a big deal for the Eames’.</p>
<p>“You guys really shouldn’t have. It’s too much.”</p>
<p>Slowly, savoring the moment, Bobby started with the square gift closest to him. It was a gorgeous leather wallet, his initials embroidered in a fine silver thread. The next two packages contained a Barnes &amp; Noble gift certificate and a handsome watch. He exclaimed over each in turn, truly touched, humbled at their thoughtfulness.</p>
<p>The last package was thick and rectangular with the distinctive heft of a book that couldn’t be disguised by the shiny birthday paper.</p>
<p>“This one’s from Dad.” Liz took a small sip of wine and then swirled the remaining red liquid around her glass.  “It’s not technically a gift, because he didn’t buy it for you, but it was his idea.”</p>
<p>The wrapping fell away to reveal a hardcover legal tome, <em>The Code of Criminal Procedure in New York</em>. It was vintage, from 1956, very rare and very valuable. It had been part of Alex’s father’s small collection of law books and Bobby had salivated over it each time they visited his apartment.  It was impossible to find now, even in the most obscure used bookstores he frequented – a Crown Jewel he hadn’t been able to add to his library despite a concerted effort. Until now. His jaw dropped as he stared at the stamped gold lettering on the front cover.</p>
<p>“When we were cleaning out Dad’s place two months ago, we went through all of his books,” Liz explained, picking at the lonely fried onion left on her plate. “He told us that he wanted you to have this one.”</p>
<p>“I-I can’t accept this,” he stammered, touching the book’s binding reverently. “It’s too much. He could sell this, get a lot of money. I know he could use it. Retirement home living isn’t cheap.”</p>
<p>“I told him that, but he was determined that you should have it. It’s special to him.”</p>
<p>Twisting in her seat, Liz glanced over at her sister, who was sitting directly across the table from him.</p>
<p>“Care to share with the class why it’s so special to him, Alex?”</p>
<p>A fleeting, unidentifiable emotion flashed across his wife’s face. She shifted uncomfortably, pushing her still mostly full plate away so she could rest her forearms on the table.</p>
<p>“Dad used to read it to me.” Alex tucked her hair behind her ears as she recounted the back story. “It was rare that he was home to put us to bed, so when he was, we all vied for his attention. To be equitable, he would read to each of us – regular storybooks for Liz, Johnny and Mark, <em>The Code of Criminal Procedure</em> for me. It started as a joke, because I always bugged him to tell me about his job, but it sort of became our special thing. I didn’t really understand most of the content of course, but the way his face lit up when he talked about the law, that I will never forget.”  </p>
<p>Bobby grinned. “Well, that explains why you were always a much better cop than I was. Johnny Eames starts his trainees young.” </p>
<p>Sobering, he opened the book’s cover gingerly, as if it might disintegrate before his eyes. “Is he sure about this, like really sure?”</p>
<p>Liz nodded. “He’s positive. He knows that you’ll cherish it. And he wants to keep it in the family . . . as long as possible.”</p>
<p>There was another look exchanged between sisters then, and it made the back of his neck tingle. Something was up. Things <em>had</em> seemed a bit . . . awkward . . . between the women that evening. He had convinced himself he was imagining it but, as always, his natural instincts had been right on the money. He made a mental note to ask Alex about that later before returning to the present moment.</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll treasure it. I’ll call him tomorrow, to thank him. And I want to . . . uh, thank all of you, for, for the gifts . . . and for letting me be a part of your family, for being so welcoming.  I’ve, uh, I’ve never been part of a family like this before, and I always wanted to be. Very much. So, uh, thanks.”</p>
<p>He bowed his head sheepishly, embarrassed at his sentimentality, as Jared clapped him on the shoulder and Liz stood to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.</p>
<p>“We love you, Bobby. And I agree. Family is <em>everything</em>.”</p>
<p>Across the table, Alex stood abruptly. All of the color had drained from her face and her chest was coated in a thin sheen of sweat that sparkled like a layer of diamonds in the ebbing sunlight.</p>
<p>“So, who wants cake?”</p>
<p>It must have been a rhetorical question because she snagged two plates off the table and turned to leave the room before anyone had answered. She didn’t get far. After three steps, she stumbled and sagged against the wall, her knees buckling. The plates slid out of her hands and hit the floor, shattering and sending leftover morsels skittering in all directions. </p>
<p>“Alex?”</p>
<p>Bobby’s heart leapt up into his throat. He rose to his feet quickly, his chair tipping over behind him and clattering onto the floor. Alex mumbled something but the words were jumbled and largely incoherent.</p>
<p>A second later, she slid to the ground with a thud and was silent.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Chapter 9 – Best</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p>“I really wish you’d let me take you to the hospital.”</p>
<p>Thirty minutes later, Alex was propped up in bed, surrounded by a mountain of pillows, a cold compress cradling her forehead and a blanket draped over her legs. Outside, she could hear the roar of a motorboat, the hum of an idling lawn mower and, further down the shoreline, the sound of laughter. Bobby sat on the edge of the bed beside her, massaging the sole of her foot, looking anxious.</p>
<p>“I’m fine, really.”</p>
<p>And she really was. She had regained consciousness less than ten seconds after she hit the floor, blood rapidly recirculating to her brain. After Bobby and Jared helped her into a chair and, at Liz’s insistence, she ate a few bites of apple and drank a big glass of water, she began to feel better than she had all day. Other than a few cuts from where she had fallen on broken glass, her recovery was nearly complete. She wasn’t shaking now, the rhythm of her heart had evened out and some of her strength had returned.</p>
<p>She was on the mend.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Bobby.</p>
<p>Her husband looked much worse than he had all day; haggard, with deep lines of worry etched into his forehead. She could feel his hands trembling lightly as he pressed a thumb into her instep and rubbed away a knot.</p>
<p>“You scared the hell out of me. I’d feel better if you went to get checked out. Please.”</p>
<p>Alex poked him with a toe playfully, trying to loosen him up.</p>
<p>“It’s not necessary. Honestly. I’m completely fine. It was probably just low blood sugar and the heat. I’m almost back to a hundred percent now. There’s no point in driving all the way into town to sit in the ER for hours twiddling our thumbs just to be told to go home and eat and drink something.”</p>
<p>Bobby’s eyes searched her face intently. She held his gaze assuredly, eyebrows raised, daring him to contradict her, until eventually he sighed and his shoulders slumped. She had won this one.</p>
<p>“Okay, but if you start to feel off again, we’re going to the ER. Deal?”</p>
<p>“Deal.” Smiling at him warmly, she rubbed her foot over his cotton-clad thigh. “I’m sorry I scared you. And I’m really sorry I ruined your birthday party.”</p>
<p> “You know I don’t care about that. I’m just concerned about you.” Leaning forward, Bobby gently peeled the compress off her forehead and pressed the back of his hand against her cheek. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”</p>
<p>“That’s because I don’t.”</p>
<p>Liz strolled into the room then, a huge glass of water in hand. Grateful for the distraction from Bobby’s intense scrutiny, Alex turned her attention to her sister, praying for an ally.</p>
<p>“Can you please tell my husband that I’m fine?”</p>
<p>Liz smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.</p>
<p>“I just got off the phone with Shouvon. She says you’re probably right. Sounds like you fainted from low blood sugar and dehydration in the heat. She wants you to rest, drink lots of fluids, try to eat something small and keep monitoring your symptoms.”</p>
<p>“See!” Alex exclaimed with a triumphant grin. “I told you. I’m fine. It’s handy to have a nurse as a sister-in-law. Now everyone can relax.”</p>
<p>Neither of the other two faces in the room appeared even remotely reassured by this new information. Alex sighed inwardly. It was going to be a long night with these two ‘doting’ over her.</p>
<p>Placing the water on the nightstand, Liz turned to Bobby.</p>
<p>“Jared’s wondering if he can get your help getting the canoes back onto the racks in the garage.”</p>
<p>“Sure.” Levering himself off the bed, Bobby kissed Alex’s forehead. “Keep an eye on this one for me, okay?”</p>
<p>Liz assumed his place of vigil at her bedside, sitting silently and staring at her hands until the snap of the screen door signaled Bobby’s exit. When she finally raised her eyes, they were moist.</p>
<p>“Oh no. Don’t you dare!” Alex shook her head vehemently at her sister as her own eyes began to fill. “If you start crying, I’ll start crying.”</p>
<p>Her sister chuckled without humor and wiped at her cheeks with a forearm. “I can’t help it. I’m worried about you. You need to be honest with me about what’s really going on. Are you seriously pregnant?”</p>
<p>Alex pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“How far along?”</p>
<p>“Coming up to the end of the first trimester.”</p>
<p>Liz let out a long, low whistle. “And you haven’t told Bobby yet?”</p>
<p>Alex shook her head in the negative.</p>
<p>“Why the hell not?” Her sister’s eyes widened to saucer size as if something had just occurred to her. “Is it . . . not his?”</p>
<p>Alex curled her hands into tight fists, bunching up the blankets on either side of her. A bandaged cut on her palm throbbed in protest and she welcomed the pain as a distraction from the anger.</p>
<p>
  <em>Déjà vu. Oh, to be thought of so highly – first by your husband, then by your sister.</em>
</p>
<p>“Yes, of course it’s his,” she snapped. “Do you really think I would cheat on Bobby?”</p>
<p>Liz shrugged. “No. But I’m coming up empty trying to think of any other logical reason you wouldn’t have told him when you’re so far along.”</p>
<p>Sighing, Alex melted back into the pillows. Her sister was wrong but right. It wasn’t a completely illogical assumption based on the current situation. She had brought this on herself.</p>
<p>“The conditions just never seemed . . . right . . . to tell him.”</p>
<p>“The conditions?” Liz squinted and frowned in a way that was so reminiscent of their father that Alex almost laughed despite herself. “This isn’t a space shuttle launch.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to tell him until I knew what I wanted to do.”</p>
<p>Liz blinked. “What do you mean, what you wanted to do?”</p>
<p>“I’m having an abortion.”</p>
<p>Her sister jerked back so sharply that Alex was surprised she didn’t fall off the bed. “What? Why?”</p>
<p>“I think it’s what’s best.”</p>
<p>“What’s <em>best</em>??” Liz sputtered, shaking her head wildly in stunned disbelief. “How could you think . . .? Y-Your baby . . .”</p>
<p>The reaction was hardly surprising. It wasn’t that her sister was pro-life necessarily. It was just that ever since they were children, the only thing Liz consistently expressed wanting to be was a mother. It had crushed her when the doctor told her that she would never be able to carry a baby to term. The decision to so callously throw away this precious gift would be incomprehensible to her. Alex could appreciate that, could understand where her sister was coming from.</p>
<p>But it still left her feeling more alone than ever.</p>
<p>“It’s too risky. For the baby, for me. I can’t do it. I’m too old, Liz. You said so yourself that night around the bonfire and again today.”</p>
<p>Liz flushed, cheeks pinkening. “I never would have said that if . . . I was just teasing you.”</p>
<p>“No, you weren’t. Not really,” Alex countered gently, placing a hand over her sister’s. “Even if you were, you aren’t wrong.”</p>
<p>Liz’s head still swung back and forth like a metronome. “But don’t you think Bobby deserves a say? That’s <em>his</em> baby.”</p>
<p>She smiled sadly. “It’s <em>my</em> body, Liz. My choice. Bobby will respect that. Besides, I did take his wishes into consideration. He doesn’t want kids.”</p>
<p>“I find that hard to believe. He’s amazing with Nate and genuinely seems to like spending time with him.”</p>
<p>Alex shrugged limply as she smoothed the blanket over her legs. “Believe what you will, but he doesn’t. It’s one thing to have a nephew that you see every once in a while. It’s another thing to have a child of your own. He doesn’t want to take the chance with his family history of mental illness.”</p>
<p>Liz frowned again. “He told you that?”</p>
<p>“He didn’t need to. I can read between the lines. I’ve known him forever, remember.  I know the way his mind works better than he does.”</p>
<p>“What’re you going to do then?” Her sister’s voice went up an octave in her indignance. “Not tell him? Just go and have an abortion and then come home and make dinner like nothing happened?”</p>
<p>“No.” The corner of Alex’s mouth quirked up just the tiniest bit. “I was planning on getting takeout.”</p>
<p>Liz rolled her eyes. “It’s not funny.”</p>
<p>“I know, I’m sorry.” Alex sobered, folding her hands into her lap. “No. I did debate not telling him at one point. I figured it would be easier just dealing with this on my own, quietly. It would save him a lot of stress. But I can’t. If he ever were to find out . . .”</p>
<p>Swallowing hard, she pinched the bridge of her nose.</p>
<p>“. . .Well, that would be the end of us. I know I need to tell him. I’ve just been stalling because I’m scared of how he’s going to react to me being pregnant. Bobby doesn’t do well with change. I’m scared that he’s going to be angry. That he’ll leave. That this will ruin our marriage. I had finally got up the courage to share the news and then, well, you guys showed up. I didn’t want to put a damper on your visit.”</p>
<p>Sighing, Liz stared out the bedroom window into the thick evergreen forest that separated the cabin from its neighbors.</p>
<p>“We’ve talked a lot about what Bobby wants. But what do you want? Honestly.”</p>
<p>Alex frowned, taken aback by the direct question. It wasn’t one that she had put much thought into. Her own wants seemed immaterial, superfluous, in comparison to the practical risks and the impact on her husband. As a result, her immediate response was rehearsed and devoid of any real emotional strength or conviction.</p>
<p>“There are just so many risks. I want to have an abortion. It’s the best option.”</p>
<p>“Are you absolutely sure about that?”</p>
<p>Liz raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly down at Alex’s hands. Unconsciously, she had placed them protectively over her stomach as they talked. Yanking them away, she shoved them underneath her thighs and then sighed.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Her sister nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, you need to talk to Bobby. A-S-A-P. Tell him the truth, the whole truth, even the pieces that might hurt him a little. See what he says. And then decide.”</p>
<p>Feeling abjectly weary again, Alex slid down further on the bed, rolling onto her side and resting her cheek against the soft cotton of the pillowcase.</p>
<p>“I will. I promise. But not tonight. I’ve been the source of enough drama tonight. Tomorrow. As soon as I get home from dropping you guys off at the airport.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to hold you to that.”</p>
<p>Alex yawned. “It’s not going to change anything though. He’ll never tell me directly he doesn’t want this kid. He will be kind and compassionate and vague. He will support whatever I want to do. And then if I keep the baby, he will feel trapped, miserable, and resentful. The choice is clear.”</p>
<p>“Maybe.” Liz squeezed her sister’s leg beneath the blanket. “Or maybe, just maybe, he’ll surprise you, big sister. You aren’t going to know until you tell him.”</p>
<p>They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the day winding down. Alex’s eyelids grew heavy and the pull of sleep became more and more irresistible. She fought to stay awake but must have dozed off because when Liz stood up, the shift of the mattress roused her. She stretched languidly, curling her toes and cracking her neck.</p>
<p>“I should get up.”</p>
<p>Her sister put a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. “Just lay here a bit. I’ll come get you when it’s time for cake. And you <em>will</em> eat a piece, even if I have to shove it down your stubborn throat.”</p>
<p>Alex grinned. “Yes mom.”</p>
<p>As Liz drew the blanket up around her, Alex took in the soft curves of her face, her long, dark eyelashes and the delicate nose that was indeed an exact replica of their mother’s.</p>
<p><em>My little baby sister. Not little anymore</em>. <em>It seems like yesterday I was taking care of her. Now she’s taking care of me.</em></p>
<p>“Liz . . . I need you to know, when you told me you were looking to adopt, I did consider giving this baby to you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Al.” Liz sunk back down onto the mattress beside her, looking stricken. “I would never ask that of you.”</p>
<p>Alex nodded in appreciation of that fact.</p>
<p>“No, you wouldn’t. Even if you did, I couldn’t. It doesn’t eliminate the risks to the baby, or to me. And it would be too hard, too painful, to see the baby at family gatherings and . . . know the truth. But I wish I could.”</p>
<p>“I know you do.” Her sister smiled down at her kindly, eyes wet again. “Now get some rest. This is all going to work out, Al. I can feel it.”</p>
<p>As she slipped back into a light doze, Alex tried to muster even a fraction of that optimism.</p>
<p>She couldn’t.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Chapter 10 - Busted</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>He had some making up to do.</p>
<p>The checkout queue at the Hannaford Supermarket in Portland inched forward at a snail's pace. The store was packed, teeming with retirees, tourists and shift workers popping in to pick up ingredients for the evening's repast. Bobby shifted his weight back and forth between feet impatiently as the customer in front of him picked one item at a time out of his cart and placed it on the conveyor belt with unnecessary care. The huge clock that hung above the automatic exit doors informed him that it was nearly three-thirty in the afternoon. He had only about an hour and a half before Alex got home from the airport. At the rate the man in front was moving, she was going to beat him back.</p>
<p>That simply wouldn't do.</p>
<p>He had planned a romantic evening, the same type of evening he wanted to have six days ago when he returned from his tour. He had bought her flowers and in his trolley were the fixings for paella - pretty much the only fancy meal he could prepare with any degree of skill - and Alex's favorite ice cream for dessert. When he got home, he wanted to get dinner started, put on some music, light some candles and then see what happened from there. Tonight was going to be all about his wife and what she wanted. About making her feel good.</p>
<p>It was the least he could do.</p>
<p>It had hurt her when he asked if she was having an affair, he knew that. The accusation had been a slap across the face, a kick in the teeth. Her injured expression still lingered in his minds-eye. He had wished immediately that he could reel the words back in but it was too late. There was no going back, the question was out there in the universe. A question that, in retrospect, he felt ridiculous for asking. She had stuck by him for well over a decade, even when he had been an ass, her loyalty never wavering. Why would that change now? It had clearly been about his own insecurities, that pesky lingering fear that he would never, could never, be enough for her. Any distance he had felt between them had just been a figment of his imagination. If she said there was no one else, there was no one else.</p>
<p>And yet, there was still . . . something . . . off.</p>
<p>Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. A revelation that lurked on the outskirts of his consciousness, sniffing around like a waiting scavenger. It was hardly an unfamiliar sensation. He had felt like that a million times during his career, in moments when he had all the information but just couldn't connect the dots. Things he had seen and heard that on their own were information but together created meaning. It would come to him eventually, it always did.</p>
<p>For now, he needed to stay in the moment. The ball was in his court. He had to show her that he knew he was an idiot for not trusting her.</p>
<p>And he would, if he ever got out of the damn grocery store.</p>
<p>After arguing with the cashier over the price of an avocado and paying with an obscene number of coupons, the thrifty customer in front of him finally wheeled his cart out of the way and Bobby rushed through his own purchases. Minutes later, he was out by his Jeep, fumbling with his keys while balancing the paper bag full of groceries on one hip. He had just maneuvered the hatch open when a familiar voice called his name and he turned to see Faith crossing the parking lot in his direction.</p>
<p><em>Dammit</em>.</p>
<p>Guilt stayed Bobby's feet and kept him from just waving and continuing on his way. He still hadn't forgiven himself for the way his relationship with Faith had ended. It hadn't been fair. He had absolutely cared for her at one point, although he wasn't sure it had ever quite crossed the threshold into love. It never had the chance to. When Alex came back into his life, his long-repressed feelings for her had overshadowed everything else and extinguished anything he might have felt for Faith. As soon as that happened, he should have ended the relationship, but he had kept it going, selfishly, uncertain of Alex's feelings for him and knowing that her reappearance in his life was, in all likelihood, time limited. Why throw away something good only to be left alone again?</p>
<p>It was a coward's choice.</p>
<p>Then one night, under a starry sky, he had kissed Alex and Faith had witnessed it. He had no regrets about the kiss, but he felt horrible for hurting Faith. They ended the relationship after that, by mutual agreement, but over time had remained friends, albeit tentatively. He was still ashamed of himself, ashamed of doing something that he never imagined he would do in being unfaithful. He owed her, for the pain he had caused. It was that debt that prevented him from walking away now, no matter how much he wanted to.</p>
<p>"Hey, how are you?"</p>
<p>Bobby greeted her with all the warmth he could muster before dropping the groceries into the hatch of the Jeep. When he turned back around, Faith stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. She was dressed for work in a black pinstripe blazer and matching skirt with a purple blouse underneath. She smelled of lavender and that fancy soap she purchased from Europe for what he had always thought to be an asinine amount of money.</p>
<p>"I'm good, how are you?"</p>
<p>"Things are, uh, great." He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned a shoulder against the Jeep. "Busy."</p>
<p>
  <em>Hint, hint.</em>
</p>
<p>"I bet you are. I've been watching your book sales and reading the articles about you in the news." Faith mimed spelling out a heading on an imaginary marquee. "Robert Goren. New York Times Bestselling Author. Wow."</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah. It's pretty crazy."</p>
<p>"No, it's not." Faith smiled, her glossy dark hair straightened and flowing down her back. "I always said you were special. That you had a gift to share with the world."</p>
<p>Bobby cleared his throat uncomfortably at the praise.</p>
<p>"Well, thanks."</p>
<p>Her eyes were friendly yet vaguely intimidating as they assessed him from stem to stern.</p>
<p>"You look really good, Bobby."</p>
<p>He fought the urge to glance at his new watch. Time was marching on while they stood there awkwardly. At this rate, he wouldn't have the chance to start dinner before Alex walked in the door.</p>
<p>"Thanks. So do you."</p>
<p>After another annoyingly long pause, Faith finally motioned to the bag beside him.</p>
<p>"Well, I don't want your food to spoil in the heat. I'll let you get going, but maybe we could get together for lunch sometime? I'd like to buy you a celebratory drink."</p>
<p>Bobby dipped his head a few times, eager to agree to anything if it meant the conversation would end and he would be free of this guilt-motivated obligation. "Sure, that would be nice."</p>
<p>She smoothed a manicured hand over the curve of her hip. "Great. I'll give you a call. Maybe sooner rather than later would be best? I'm sure once the baby gets here, you'll have your hands full even more than usual."</p>
<p>
  <em>Huh?</em>
</p>
<p>Bobby barked out a staccato laugh, rubbing a hand over his chin. The rasp of stubble reminded him of one other thing he had been planning to do before his wife got home. Shave. There was no way he would have time for that now.</p>
<p>"I think you've got me mixed up with, uh, someone else."</p>
<p>Faith frowned, the corners of her mouth pinching together. "No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I didn't hallucinate my conversation with Alex last Friday."</p>
<p>Bobby's face froze into an uneasy mask, his polite smile losing some of its luster. When he didn't respond immediately, she continued, eyeing him curiously.</p>
<p>"She didn't tell you we saw each other?"</p>
<p>He shook his head. "No, no. But h-her family has been visiting. Probably just slipped her mind."</p>
<p>Faith nodded, features tightening almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, of course, probably. Well, she was coming out of the OBGYN, across the street from my yoga studio. She showed me the ultrasound."</p>
<p>His knees weakened and Bobby had to lean more heavily against the Jeep to stay upright.</p>
<p>
  <em>She's lying. Surely she's lying. She has to be lying . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But why would she lie about something like this?</em>
</p>
<p>As if sensing his sudden unsteadiness, Faith reached out a hand to grab his arm but stopped just short of actually touching him. Something almost victorious prowled in the depths of her eyes.</p>
<p>"You didn't know."</p>
<p>He knew he should deny that, to protect his wife, but he couldn't think. His brain was coated in a thick sludge that made forming words a near impossible task. It was almost as if he were being asked to translate his thoughts into a language that he didn't speak. Behind the scenes, the pieces were slowly clicking into place, all the innocent observations that had been filed away but assigned no real significance starting to assemble. That revelation that had been evading him came into stark relief and Bobby wondered idly how in the hell he hadn't put it together sooner.</p>
<p>
  <em>Some detective you are.</em>
</p>
<p>In shock, Bobby slid bonelessly down into the open hatch of the Jeep, the tailgate bucking under his weight. Faith did touch him now, a warm palm pressing against his cheek. The contact barely registered in his whirling mind.</p>
<p>"Shit. I'm sorry I let the cat out of the bag. I never would have said anything but Alex told me you knew. That you were excited."</p>
<p>"It-it's not your fault," Bobby finally stuttered, mouth so dry that he felt as if he were speaking around sand.</p>
<p>After a quick glance down the street, Faith assumed an air of carefully cultivated casualness.</p>
<p>"I've got to admit, I was, well, surprised by that. I mean, you made it pretty clear to me how you felt about having children."</p>
<p>The elderly couple who had parked next to the Jeep chose that moment to return to their vehicle, arms laden with re-useable bags. The woman glanced at them curiously before looking away quickly. Faith had to move closer to allow them to pass, her bare knee brushing against his. She didn't reinstate the previous distance, even after they had tossed their purchases into the car and motored off. Instead, she let a hand rest on his shoulder, thumb brushing over his neck.</p>
<p>"Are you okay?"</p>
<p>Bobby gave his head a vicious shake, snapping back to attention. "Yeah. I-I should get going. I need to . . . uh . . . go home."</p>
<p>"Okay. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. You deserve better." Faith gave his shoulder a final squeeze and then took a step back. "You know I'm here for you, right? If you ever want to talk, give me a call. If you need a place to stay, to get some space to clear your head, you're more than welcome to stay with me. You're not alone."</p>
<p>As she walked away, heels clicking on the concrete sidewalk, Bobby stood up robotically, closed the hatch and slipped numbly into the driver's side of his Jeep.</p>
<p>It was a miracle that he made it all the way home without getting into an accident.</p>
<hr/>
<p>As soon as she walked in the door, Alex knew the gig was up.</p>
<p>Her secret was out.</p>
<p>Bobby was sitting on the couch in the living room, motionless, elbows resting on his knees, fingertips pressed to his lips so hard they turned white. His eyes shifted to her and then away again but he said nothing. He didn't have to; his expression spoke volumes. A paper bag full of groceries had been abandoned on the kitchen island. It must have been there a while because the bottom of the bag had turned mud brown. Something leaking or melting, maybe both.</p>
<p>Slowly, as if afraid of provoking him, Alex slipped the strap of her crossbody bag over her head and placed it on the bench beside the door. Her throat tightened as she slipped out of her shoes and moved closer, the hardwood creaking ominously beneath her feet. She stood off to one side, cautious of maintaining the most non-confrontational stance she could muster. Bobby ignored her, staring at a tumbler of bourbon on the coffee table as if he expected it might spring to life. He didn't even really like bourbon. He must have chosen it because it was the strongest liquor in the house at the moment.</p>
<p>
  <em>Not a good sign.</em>
</p>
<p>Licking her lips nervously, Alex folded her arms over her stomach, hugging herself tight and hoping against hope that this wasn't what she thought it was.</p>
<p>"Is everything okay?"</p>
<p>Bobby's voice was flat when he asked the question to which he obviously already had the answer.</p>
<p>"Are you pregnant?"</p>
<p>
  <em>Busted. Time to 'fess up.</em>
</p>
<p>Alex nodded slowly, sucking in a shaky breath through shuddering lungs.</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>Bobby closed his eyes, face draining of its last dregs of color, and became deathly still.</p>
<p>"Bobby, I'm-"</p>
<p>"Don't."</p>
<p>He held up a hand to silence her and she acquiesced, lowering herself gingerly onto the arm of the chair that sat perpendicular to the couch. She needed to let him drive this, as hard as that would be.</p>
<p>"How long have you known?"</p>
<p>She swallowed hard. "For sure? About six weeks. I suspected a few weeks before that."</p>
<p>"Jesus, Alex." Bobby dropped his face into his hands, palms gouging at his eyes.</p>
<p>A wicker straw gouged into the back of her thigh and Alex shifted slightly to relieve the sharp jab. Her hands were trembling and she pinned them between her knees to hold them steady.</p>
<p>"I thought we were safe. . . with my age, your age . . . I didn't think it would ever happen."</p>
<p>Bobby picked up the bourbon and took a hard slug. His hands were shaking as well and the amber liquid slopped around the glass as he lowered it onto the table.</p>
<p>Alex wiped a line of sweat off her forehead. "How did you . . .?"</p>
<p>"Find out?" He was still refusing to look at her, staring straight ahead into the fireplace. "I ran into Faith."</p>
<p>
  <em>Of course you fucking did.</em>
</p>
<p>"Does anyone else know?"</p>
<p>The timbre of Bobby's voice suggested that this was going downhill fast. The tension was building exponentially in his body. A little more pressure and he would explode. Still, it was hardly the time to continue evading the truth.</p>
<p>
  <em>This is on you. Don't forget that.</em>
</p>
<p>"My sister."</p>
<p>"Your sister." He laughed humorlessly. "You told my ex-girlfriend and your sister. But not me."</p>
<p>"I didn't really <em>tell</em> my sister. She figured it out while she was here." The justification was pathetic even to her own ears. "And Faith, well, that was just bad timing."</p>
<p>Bobby picked up the bourbon again and held it up to the rays of light streaking through the windows. The glass created a rainbow prism on the opposing wall.</p>
<p>"When were you going to tell <em>me</em>?"</p>
<p>The steel in his voice wavered on that last word even though she could tell he was working hard to keep it in place.</p>
<p>"Tonight." Alex fought the urge to sit down beside him on the couch and wrap her arms around him in apology. She could tell from the set of his shoulders it would not have been welcome. "I really was, I promise. I just needed to know what I was going to . . . do . . . first."</p>
<p>He did look over at her then, frowning slightly. His confused expression was nearly identical to that of her sister the previous day.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>It was her turn to avert her eyes before he could see the water in them.</p>
<p>"I'm having an abortion on Friday."</p>
<p>Bobby threw his glass across the room.</p>
<p>Well, not threw as much as tossed. He lobbed it with an angry flick of his wrist, sending the liquid flying in an arc and splashing all over the floor. Alex flinched and recoiled in surprise even though he had tossed it in the opposite direction from where she sat. The tumbler bounced off the cushion of another chair and landed on its side on the rug, intact but now empty.</p>
<p>"I can't do this. This is too much. I can't . . . I need to . . . I need to go."</p>
<p>Bobby shot up off the couch and strode past her into the kitchen, the breeze he left in his wake ruffling her hair. She remained perched tentatively on the arm of the chair as he grabbed his keys and shoved his feet into sandals, feeling horrible and helpless and guilty.</p>
<p>"Please don't leave. We need to talk about this."</p>
<p>"Yeah, sure. Now you want to talk." He shoved the door open roughly and stepped out onto the porch, never once turning back to look at her. "I need some space."</p>
<p>And then he was gone.</p>
<p>Thirty seconds later, the wheels of the Jeep crunched too quickly down the long gravel driveway.</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, that went well.</em>
</p>
<p>What had she expected though, really? He had reacted as she anticipated he would. With escape and avoidance and anger. And now he would shut down, disappear for a while, physically and mentally, withdraw into himself emotionally. It validated one of the reasons she had been so nervous to tell him.</p>
<p>Still, she couldn't blame him.</p>
<p>Not after what she had done, all she had withheld.</p>
<p>How he had found out . . .</p>
<p>
  <em>No sense in wallowing. Do something. That will help keep your head above water.</em>
</p>
<p>Mechanically, Alex rose to her feet, walked into the kitchen and started pulling items from the paper bag on the island. Rice, bay leaves, peppers, chorizo sausage, all ingredients for his paella. A tub of ice cream had melted into a gooey puddle at the bottom of the bag. She threw that away and dumped the rest of the ingredients into the fridge and cupboards. There was a bouquet of flowers on the counter and she considered tossing them too before taking out a vase, filling it with water and plunking them in. Returning to the living room, she mopped up the spilled bourbon and placed the tumbler back on a coaster on the coffee table.</p>
<p>
  <em>There. One mess cleaned up. Now just a billion more to go.</em>
</p>
<p>With no strength remaining, she lay down on the couch, still warm from Bobby's body heat, and allowed the emotion to drown her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Chapter 11 - Space </strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p>He drove around mindlessly for hours.</p>
<p>As the light began to fade, the gray asphalt of the road transitioned into a river of black tar that stretched out endlessly before him. His hands numbly clenched the steering wheel, shoulders tight. He kept to back roads as much as possible, hoping to avoid evening dog walkers and other traffic. If he had come across a police officer, he surely would have been pulled over for impaired driving. He drifted over center lines, coasted toward ditches. His wheels met a gravel shoulder more than once, the rear of the Jeep fishtailing, and he had to jerk himself out of a skid.</p>
<p>It was a metaphor for his life.</p>
<p>The ground precarious beneath his feet. His world sliding out of control. Destined to crash.</p>
<p>Emotional freefall.</p>
<p>A baby. His baby.</p>
<p>And she hadn’t told him. She had told two other people, but not him. Not her husband, the father of the child growing inside her.</p>
<p>What did that say? About her? About him? About their relationship?</p>
<p>Their marriage?</p>
<p>Bobby didn’t want to think too deeply about that. He already felt eviscerated, as if his intestines had been ripped out, staked to the ground and picked at by scavengers. Her lie by omission had sent him stumbling into the ropes. He had just staggered to his feet, punch drunk and dizzy, when she hit him again with the abortion. He lost his equilibrium completely then, ears buzzing, vision narrowing. He had to remove himself from the ring to escape the battering. Concussed by the force of her admission, he had no recollection of getting into his Jeep and rattling down the laneway. His senses only returned when he turned onto the shore road and the cabin’s laneway disappeared behind a curve.</p>
<p>Baby. Abortion.</p>
<p>Simple concepts. Impossible for him to comprehend. </p>
<p>He needed to get away. To be alone. To think.</p>
<p>It was dusk by the time he pulled off onto a dirt shoulder at the base of a huge hill. With his windows down, he could hear the growing chorus of crickets and smell the sweet blooming evening primrose. The thick forest on either side of the road obliterated any view of civilization and created a leafy, emerald-green tunnel around him. Removing the keys from the ignition, Bobby rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to breathe slowly through the sharp pains in his chest.</p>
<p>
  <em>Alex . . . how could you not tell me?  </em>
</p>
<p>On the passenger seat, his cell phone beeped. Opening his eyes with a groan, he snagged it and tapped the screen with his thumb. Three missed calls and a text message from his wife. No voicemail. He clicked into his messages and her text popped up at the top.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m sorry. Come home. Please. We need to talk. </em>
</p>
<p>He snorted aloud. It was too late for talking now.</p>
<p>Deleting the message, Bobby shoved the cell phone in his pocket and slid out of the Jeep. Retrieving a flashlight from the hatch, he locked the doors and found the well-disguised trailhead that led away from the road and up the hill. The night air was refreshing against his anger-hot face. When he stepped into the dark cover of the woods, he switched on the flashlight and aimed it at the dirt pathway, cautiously scanning for rocks and tree roots. He normally travelled the route by ATV and wasn’t used to having to pay such close attention to ever-present trip hazards. Still, the necessary focus on each footfall and the exertion of the uphill climb were welcome distractions.</p>
<p>Slowly, the ache in his chest abated.</p>
<p>The trail wound through the trees, up and up and up, until it opened onto the flat expanse of the overlook. The carpet of grass that led to the cliff above the gorge was crunchy brown from the undiluted summer sun and it scratched at his feet through the gaps in his sandals. The thin stream off to the left trickled weakly. As he strode toward the metal barricade that protected the edge of the overlook, his phone vibrated again in his pocket.</p>
<p>Another text from Alex.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please just let me know you’re safe. I’m worried about you.</em>
</p>
<p>He deleted that message too.</p>
<p>Elbows resting on the railing, Bobby stared out over the narrow gorge. In the low light, the rocks and trees below morphed into an indistinct mass of brown and black and gray and army green. He didn’t need to see it clearly though to know what he was looking at; the images had been branded into his minds-eye. He had stood in that exact spot many times before. Pleasant memories, memories that were dear to him suddenly vied for his attention.</p>
<p>Kissing Alex as the Fourth of July fireworks exploded overhead.</p>
<p>The weight of the small velvet box in his hand as he dropped to one knee and murmured “Marry me. Please.”</p>
<p>He never should have come to this place. Now these precious memories would forever be contaminated by his present anger and betrayal.</p>
<p>God, he felt alone.</p>
<p>Artificial light suddenly brightened the horizon in the distance. The floodlights that loomed over the baseball fields on the other side of the hills had kicked on in deference to the encroaching twilight. They created a warm glow reminiscent of that which mushroomed over Yankee Stadium during the heart of the baseball season. He wasn’t much of a sports lover, but every summer he and his friend Lewis used to catch at least one game. Not so much for the sport, but for the experience of sitting outside on a warm summer day, eating hot dogs, drinking warm beer, and people watching.</p>
<p>A small part of him seriously considered hopping back into the Jeep and driving to New York. He could stay with Lewis for a while, take some space. It had been awhile since they had seen each other in-person; it would be nice to catch up. They could get tickets to a home game. He sure could use a friend right now . . .</p>
<p>In his heart though, Bobby knew he wouldn’t. He could already hear Dr. Gyson’s voice admonishing him for storming out in the first place.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Relationships require communication.”</em>
</p>
<p>Apparently, he wasn’t the ONLY one who needed to learn that particular lesson.</p>
<p>No, driving to New York tonight or tomorrow or even the next day wouldn’t be an option. Didn’t mean he couldn’t reach out to a friend . . .</p>
<p>Lewis picked up on the third ring.</p>
<p>“Well, well, look who it is.” His old friend’s broad, contagious smile transmitted clearly across the distance. “Finally condescending to pick up the phone. You’ve been back from your book tour for what, over a week now? And not a word from you. Already forgetting the little people now that you’re a New York Times Bestselling Author, huh?”</p>
<p>Bobby grinned genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to give you a call.”</p>
<p>A TV in the background was abruptly muted.</p>
<p>“That’s okay, I get it. Busy career, sexy new wife. That’s why I didn’t call you either. I figured you and the missus would be making up for lost time.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Not exactly. </em>
</p>
<p>“We’ve had Alex’s sister and her family up for the last week. They just went home today.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah? How’d that go?”</p>
<p>Bobby ran a finger along the neckline of his T-shirt. The mosquitos were starting to emerge from the forest, their long legs tickling as they landed on his forearms.   </p>
<p>“It was, uh, good. Nice to see them.”</p>
<p>There was a pause then as he searched in vain for a route into the conversation he was desperate to have. Fortunately, when the silence started bordering on uncomfortable, Lewis opened the door.</p>
<p>“Hey, everything okay, man? You seem . . . not yourself.”</p>
<p>“Alex is pregnant.”</p>
<p>The admission flew out easily and on its heels was an immediate sense of relief for having purged it from his system.</p>
<p>Lewis laughed.</p>
<p>“Ha ha. Yeah, you’re funny. Seriously, what’s up?”</p>
<p>Bobby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m serious. Alex is pregnant.”</p>
<p>There was a moment of silence, this time on Lewis’s end, before his friend whistled long and low.</p>
<p>“Hooooly shit! Well congratulations! That’s amazing news. Slipped one past the goalie, did ya? It’s pretty impressive that your little swimmers still work, old man!”</p>
<p>A small smile raised one corner of Bobby’s mouth before flattening again. “Yeah. Guess so.”</p>
<p> “Wow. You’re going to be a dad.”</p>
<p>“Actually, no, I’m not.” Bobby picked at a chip of paint that was flaking off the top of the railing. “She’s having an abortion.”</p>
<p>This time, the pause was long enough to drive a truck through. He heard the telltale squeak of Lewis’ ratty old recliner as he shifted to a new position. </p>
<p>“Oh.” His friend was clearly weighing his words carefully. “That must have been a difficult decision to come to.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Very diplomatic, Lewis. Well done.  </em>
</p>
<p>“Maybe. I have no idea.” The bitterness and anger in his heart couldn’t be masked anymore. It spilled out, coating each syllable. “How could I? She never asked for my opinion. She never even told me she was pregnant.”</p>
<p>“What?” He could visualize Lewis’ eyes, wide and white, and his jaw dangling.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I found out, by accident, from Faith. She ran into Alex coming out of the OBGYN.”</p>
<p>“No fucking way!”</p>
<p>Bobby grinned inwardly. Profanity suited his good friend so much more than diplomacy.</p>
<p>“That sucks. How’re you managing all this?”</p>
<p>“Not so good,” Bobby replied with a sigh, momentary lightness dissipating. His eyes dampened and he blinked repeatedly to clear them. “I’m messed up about it honestly. I don’t know what to feel. I’m shocked, angry, hurt, confused . . . sad. I mean, how could she not tell me? I’m the baby’s f-father.”</p>
<p>“Did you ask her why she didn’t tell you?”</p>
<p>He nodded automatically even though Lewis couldn’t see him. “She said she couldn’t find the “right time”. She’s known for at least the last six weeks. How the hell could there not have been a time in there she could tell me?”</p>
<p>“Maybe she was scared to tell you. It’s a pretty big thing.”</p>
<p>Bobby snorted humorlessly. “Yeah, right. Alex? You know her. She isn’t scared of anything.”</p>
<p>“No, listen, hear me out.” Lewis took a long drink of something, ice cubes clinking against glass, before continuing. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve made it pretty clear that you didn’t want kids-”</p>
<p>“That’s not true,” Bobby interrupted in protest, digging the heel of his sandal into the dirt under the railing. “I never said I didn’t want kids.”</p>
<p>“Maybe not flat out, no. But you sure have insinuated it.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah, kids have never been a part of my life plan. With my genes, it would hardly be fair to the child. My mom was schizophrenic, my biological father is a mass rapist and murderer, my father was a womanizer. I’m not always the most stable person either. It’s genetic Russian Roulette and the odds are not in the kid’s favor. It’s not that I didn’t want them, it’s just . . . I thought it was a bad idea.”</p>
<p>His friend’s voice was now carefully neutral. “Yeah. Exactly. Think about it. That’s what Alex has heard all these years That you thought having kids was a bad idea. And then she got pregnant. Don’t you think that might make her at least a little reluctant to tell you?”</p>
<p>A slice of anger melted away, replaced by guilt.  Sighing, he pressed the heel of a hand against the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. Maybe.”</p>
<p>“It’s a possibility at least. Could be the same reason that she decided to have an abortion.”</p>
<p>“Maybe. I didn’t give her a chance to explain that part. I left. Walked out. Drove out of town.”</p>
<p>It was Lewis’ turn to sigh. “Not the best strategy.”</p>
<p>Bobby groaned, gouging a thumb into his eye. “I know. I know. I shouldn’t have.</p>
<p>Walking out like that was something the old Bobby did. Growing up, he had learned that hiding from difficult emotional situations was inevitably easier than dealing with them. There was no rationalizing with his mother when she was having an episode, so talking it out was pointless. It had taken a lot of therapy to move past that mindset and begin communicating rather than shutting down. He had made good strides forward in that, or at least he thought he had. Until today.</p>
<p>“I just lost it. It was too much. First the baby and then . . . no baby. My emotions were all over the place.”</p>
<p>Something moved in his peripheral vision and Bobby turned his head to see a raccoon standing on its hind legs, staring at him. He stamped his foot and it fled back to the safety of the trees.</p>
<p>“I do think it’s be-because of me, that she’s having an abortion. Not because she thinks I don’t want kids though. Because she knows that I’m not father material. That’s probably what she’s thinking, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“I have no idea what she’s thinking, Bobby, and neither do you,” Lewis retorted gently but firmly. “You need to ask her. Just like she should have asked you what you want. Too many assumptions, all the way around. Don’t get me wrong, the way you found out was crappy. But you and Alex need to talk this out. I know how much you love her. You’re an idiot if you walk away.”</p>
<p>Bobby was silent for a moment, pensive, staring up into the sky. The stars winked at him.</p>
<p>“Yeah. I know. You’re a wise man, my friend.”</p>
<p>Lewis cleared his throat with a cough. “This abortion . . . is that what you want?”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t matter. It’s not my choice. It’s her body.”</p>
<p>“I get that, but is it what you WANT? And don’t answer immediately. Think on it for a minute.”</p>
<p>Bobby squinted into the now black gorge below as if the solution lurked there, hidden. When no answer was forthcoming, he pulled back into himself, investigating the question with the same intensity he would a crime, until the clouds in his mind dissipated just enough to permit an honest response.</p>
<p>“When she confirmed she was pregnant, I cycled through a gamut of emotions really fast. Anger and hurt first, then fear and anxiety. It’s terrifying to imagine being a parent, at my age and with my history. But then, for a brief second, just before she told me about the abortion, I felt kind of . . . excited. And more than a bit in awe. That Alex and I had made, you know, a baby together.</p>
<p>Closing his eyes, Bobby let the weight of the truth wash over him and set his soul free.</p>
<p>“So no. That’s not what I want.”</p>
<p>On the other end of the line, Lewis smiled.</p>
<p>“Then go home and tell your wife that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Chapter 12 - Together</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>When she finally saw the beam of the Jeep's headlights winking through the trees that lined their laneway, Alex closed her eyes in relief.</p><p>
  <em>Thank God. He's safe. That's all that matters.</em>
</p><p>She had been sitting outside on the porch swing, chewing on already destroyed fingernails, for the last sixty minutes. Waiting. Worrying. He had been gone for hours and each second had stretched on for an eternity. The evening was warm, and yet she still shivered violently. The heavy patterned quilt she had draped over her shoulders kept off the bugs but failed to touch the cold that had ignited somewhere deep in her soul. With each call that went unanswered and each text message that didn't receive a reply, that chill intensified. Eventually she gave up trying, surrendering to what would be.</p><p><em>If he does something stupid, he does something stupid. Nothing you can do about it</em>.</p><p>That was a lie of course. There had been something she could have done. She could have been more honest, more open, more forthcoming in the first place.</p><p>Too late for that now.</p><p>Bobby walked up the front stairs slowly, one step at a time, deliberate and heavy, as if his feet were encased in cement. The porch light bathed the swing and surrounding area in a golden glow and cast sallow shadows over his solemn face. He appeared to have aged five years since walking out of the cabin, with new lines around his mouth and eyes. Despite that, she couldn't help but think he was the most attractive man she had ever met, inside and out.</p><p>And there was a good chance she was going to lose him.</p><p>There was room on the swing beside her, but Bobby chose to perch on the wooden handrail that wound around the front porch, maintaining a healthy distance between them. He hadn't looked at her once, staring at the wooden planks beneath his feet instead as if they were the most fascinating things he had ever seen.</p><p><em>Not a good sign</em>.</p><p>They sat in silence for a while, Bobby twisting his hands in his lap and Alex tugging the quilt over her shoulders like a protective shell. A powerful urge to cross the space between them and wrap her arms around him, to beg forgiveness, nearly propelled her off her seat but she managed to squash the impulse. It wouldn't do to crowd him. Not right now.</p><p>When he finally looked up, the hurt etched across his features told the story of the damage she had inflicted on him and their relationship. She could only pray that it wasn't irreparable.</p><p>"Why didn't you tell me?"</p><p>The question was gentle and surprisingly devoid of accusation and anger, which made her feel even more guilty. She would have preferred anger.</p><p>Clearing her throat, Alex rubbed the bridge of her nose.</p><p>"At first, I was in shock. Then I was convinced I would have a miscarriage. When I didn't, I started to worry about the risks. To the baby, to me. To our marriage. I was afraid that you would be angry . . ."</p><p>Sighing, her shoulders slumped in regret. "Bottom line - there's no excuse. I should have told you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner and I'm sorry you found out the way you did. You deserve better than that."</p><p>Bobby stared at her for a moment but didn't readily accept the apology as she had hoped he would. Feeling awkward in the absence of any feedback, Alex shifted uncomfortably on the swing, the chains rattling, and went on.</p><p>"If you want me to leave for a while, to give you some space, I understand. I can go stay at a motel or-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>Bobby interrupted her sharply and Alex pressed her lips together, abruptly halting her stream of nervous babble. Gnawing at his thumbnail, he exhaled noisily.</p><p>"No. I don't want you to leave. I'm sorry too."</p><p>"You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on me."</p><p>He shook his head in disagreement. "I shouldn't have walked out. That wasn't the, uh, the right thing to do. I should have stayed so we could talk it out. I know you were upset. Everything just . . . it was . . . overwhelming."</p><p>Alex released a strangled laugh that evolved into a wet cough. "Yeah, I can appreciate that."</p><p>Something small and four-legged scurried and squeaked in the dead leaves under the porch. White moths flitted around the exterior light, bumping repeatedly against the dirty glass and creating shadows below.</p><p>"So, how far, uh . . . along are you?"</p><p>"Almost eleven weeks."</p><p>She watched his eyes lose focus as he retreated into his mind to do the mental arithmetic.</p><p>"You got pregnant on our honeymoon."</p><p>It wasn't a question.</p><p>"Yeah, most likely." Alex chuckled dryly, flashing back to the heat and passion of those five days in Vienna. "There are a number of times to choose from that week."</p><p>Bobby's faint smile faded off his lips after only a second. "When did you decide about the abortion?"</p><p>She hesitated. "Recently . . . but I've been considering it from the start."</p><p>He bobbed his head twice as if that were the answer he had been expecting. "And that's what you . . . y-you . . . want?"</p><p>"It's a high-risk pregnancy," Alex said by way of explanation, trying to keep her tone dispassionate and matter-of-fact. "There's a good chance the baby could have a genetic or chromosomal disorder that requires lifelong care. The baby's health, my health, there's a lot at stake."</p><p>"Okay, yeah, but is that the real reason you decided to have an abortion?" Bobby leaned forward earnestly, gripping the handrail. "Or is it me? Be honest. If another man were the father . . . would you be keeping the baby?"</p><p>She frowned, adjusting the quilt around her. "Is this about that affair thing again? I'm not having an affair, I swear."</p><p>"No. I'm not asking you if it's my baby. I know it is. I can <em>feel</em> it is. And I trust you." He inhaled and exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling. "I'm asking if you're getting an abortion because you don't think I'd be a good father."</p><p>The vulnerability in Bobby's eyes gutted her and Alex reached across the space between them to place a hand on his knee. When he didn't rip his leg away from the contact, she left it there.</p><p>"No, not at all. I think you'd be a wonderful father. It wasn't about that. I just know that you don't want to <em>be</em> a father."</p><p>"That's not true."</p><p>The strength of his denial took her aback and she paused for a minute, tilting her head to one side.</p><p>"Look, I know you have concerns about your genetics. You've been up front about that for a long time. And Faith told me that you had been very clear with her about not wanting kids. Was she lying?"</p><p>"No," Bobby admitted slowly, gazing down at her hand where it sat on his knee. "I did tell her I didn't want kids. Because I didn't want kids with <em>her</em>. She was moving way too fast. We hadn't been together long when she started suggesting we try. It's different with you. You're my wife and I have loved you for so many years, I don't remember a time when I didn't."</p><p>Alex felt her eyes fill with tears at the touching sentiment. She had to pinch the underside of her leg to keep them at bay.</p><p>"Yeah, the thought of having a kid terrifies me," he continued, running a hand absently through his hair. "Because of my history. But being scared of having kids . . . doesn't exactly equate to not wanting them, you know? Could I have gone my entire life without having kids and been okay with it? Yeah. But now that it's here . . ."</p><p>Alex's heart began thumping so heavily it was almost painful. When he left that statement hanging, she pursued it, desperate to know how it was destined to be finished.</p><p>"Now that it's here . . . what?"</p><p>"You didn't answer my question," Bobby murmured with a shake of his head, leaving her wondering if he had even heard her. "I asked you earlier if the abortion is what you wanted, and you didn't answer me. Not directly. So tell me now, please. Is having this abortion what you <em>want,</em> Alex, what you really want?"</p><p>She fought it and fought it, railed against it with her entire being, but a lone tear eventually escaped the corner of her eye and slid lazily down her cheek.</p><p>"No, not really."</p><p>Then the dam burst. All of the emotion that had been trapped in her body for the last two months rushed out. Alex sobbed, tried to choke it back, and then sobbed again before pressing a hand against her mouth to stifle the wretched sounds.</p><p>"Oh, love." Bobby pushed himself off the railing and came to sit beside her on the swing, folding her into his arms. She buried her face into his neck as they rocked together slowly.</p><p>"I'm terrified too," Alex hiccupped, mopping her cheeks with a corner of the quilt. "About the risks, about how we'll manage being new parents at our age. It's going to be incredibly stressful – mentally, emotionally, physically and financially. It's going to impact our plans for retirement. It's going to put a strain on our marriage. I'm happy with what you and I have built here, Bobby. I don't want to lose it. I don't want to lose <em>you</em>."</p><p>He feathered a kiss over her temple, breath warm against her skin. "That's one thing you never have to be scared of. I'm not going anywhere."</p><p>Off in the distance, an owl hooted softly. Alex leaned into her husband harder, letting his strength rebuild, fortify and sustain her. She sucked in a deep, calming breath, her entire body shuddering as it struggled to dispel the unwieldy emotion. Bobby tightened his arms around her reflexively, stroking her hair as the swing swayed back and forth, creaking under their combined weight.</p><p>It took longer to pull herself together than she would have hoped, but eventually she did. The tears dried, leaving her face hot and brittle but composed. She straightened up, lifting her chin with as much aplomb as she could muster and took one of his hands between both of hers, squeezing it gently.</p><p>"The crazy part is that even knowing all that, all the risks, all the reasons we shouldn't . . . I still want to have this baby."</p><p>"That's good. Really good." Bobby gently detached a strand of hair that was stuck to her feverish cheek and tucked it behind her ear, thumb lingering near her jaw. "Because I want you to have this baby too."</p><p>It was her turn to stare at him, scanning every inch of his face intently for any sign that the words didn't jive with what was in his heart. If there were any incongruity, it wasn't apparent.</p><p>"You're sure?"</p><p>He smiled lightly. "Yeah. I'm positive. Don't get me wrong, I'm afraid of the same things you are. God knows, I have no clue how to be a father. It's not like I had any good role models growing up. But I want to try. With you."</p><p>She kissed him then, the barest brushing of lips. "You have good role models now though. You've got my Dad, and my brothers, and my brothers-in-law as a support system. They aren't perfect, and you won't be either, but we aren't alone. Still, it won't be easy, for either of us, Bobby."</p><p>"No, it won't." He pulled her close again, resting his chin on top of her head. "But I've said it once and I'll say it again – there's no job tough enough for you. You can do it. We can do this. Together."</p><p>Reaching under the quilt, Alex withdrew the ultrasound photo that she had brought outside with her earlier. One corner had crinkled under the weight of the quilt and she smoothed it back down before handing it to him wordlessly. Bobby's breathing hitched as he examined it, throat working, mouth pinching and then loosening again. Seeing his face so full of wonder nearly made her break down again.</p><p>"Wow. Our-our baby."</p><p>She rested her head on his shoulder and touched the other side of the photo. "It sure is."</p><p>"When you saw the OBGYN, everything was-was okay? Did the doctor have any, uh, concerns?"</p><p>"No. Everything looks good so far."</p><p>He placed the ultrasound on the swing beside him as gingerly as if it were the baby itself and lowered his gaze to her abdomen.</p><p>"Can I . . . feel?"</p><p>"There isn't much to feel at this point. It's still early days, but yes, of course." Alex guided his warm hand under her T-shirt to rest on her belly. "Not much of a bump there yet but there will be soon."</p><p>"No, I can tell," Bobby insisted quietly, caressing her stomach. "It feels different than usual. Firmer."</p><p>Alex reared back to look at him, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a grin. "What, are you saying that I had flabby abs before?"</p><p>"No! No, no, no!" He yanked his hand out from under her T-shirt and raised it as if she had just pointed a gun at him. "That's not what I-"</p><p>She cut him off with the first peal of genuine laughter she had experienced in months. "I'm just kidding, Goren. Relax."</p><p>Bobby shot her a withering look but smiled as he leaned back in the swing and drew her back with him.</p><p>"We're going to be parents. Can you believe it? Did you ever think that was going to happen?"</p><p>"Hell no!" She huffed out another half laugh. "Hence why we're in this predicament."</p><p>"Everything will be okay, love. <em>We</em> will be okay."</p><p>Nodding, Alex closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. "That's what my sister said, and the doctor. But I never realized just how much I needed to hear it from you until right now."</p><p>Bobby slipped a hand back under her T-shirt, splaying his fingers over her abdomen as they rocked back and forth, listening to the sound of tiny waves lapping up against the shore.</p><p>She knew it wasn't possible . . .</p><p>She knew it was too early . . .</p><p>. . . but she could have sworn she felt a kick.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Epilogue </span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>He was vibrating with nervous energy. Literally.</p>
<p>It emanated off Bobby in waves, crackling like electricity, making the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end. He had paced the length of the treatment room in Dr. Madison’s office - back and forth, back and forth - for the last ten minutes, hands clasped behind his back, reading every poster and examining every piece of equipment. When Alex couldn’t take his mindless wandering any longer, she had begged him to sit down.</p>
<p>That had been a mistake.</p>
<p>Now Bobby was burning off his anxiety by jiggling his leg frenetically up and down, up and down, his head on a swivel as he continued to investigate the room from his stationary position.</p>
<p>It was making her crazy.</p>
<p>“Bobby, please,” Alex muttered finally through gritted teeth. She reached over from her place on the examination table and placed a hand on one of his bouncing knees. “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to murder you. And no jury would convict me.”</p>
<p>Bobby stilled the motion, looking guilty. He dropped a hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze.</p>
<p>“Sorry.”</p>
<p>Gently, Alex pulled his hand under the crepe sheet that covered her lower half. She placed it carefully on the swell of her belly and, as usual, the baby kicked at Bobby’s touch. That precious little flutter never failed to bring a smile and a wave of calm to Bobby’s face. It made her smile too.</p>
<p>A knock on the door startled them both and Bobby withdrew his hand as Doctor Madison entered the room, sliding the panel closed behind her.</p>
<p>“Hello Alex. It’s good to see you again.”</p>
<p>She smiled warmly at her patient before turning her attention to the man in the room. She held out a hand and Bobby surreptitiously wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before standing to shake it.</p>
<p>“You must be Bobby. It’s nice to see you here.”</p>
<p>Her husband nodded his head a few times mutely before lowering himself back on the stool. His knee resumed its jigging immediately and Alex shot him a withering look until it stopped again.</p>
<p>“Over six months along now. Two-thirds of the way there.” Reaching into a drawer, Dr. Madison withdrew a pair of blue latex gloves and began pulling them on. “How have you been feeling?”</p>
<p>As Alex detailed the last few weeks, the doctor circled the examination table, poking and prodding. She pressed on Alex’s legs, used a tape measure to assess the swell of her belly and checked her blood pressure while inquiring about the baby’s movements and how Alex had been sleeping. Bobby had pushed his stool back to give her room to work but followed the doctor’s every move like a hawk. His intelligent mind worked feverishly through the windows of his eyes, hyper vigilant for even the slightest sign of distress.</p>
<p>When the OBGYN sat back down at her computer, clicking through a series of screens, Bobby moved over beside Alex again, looking green with worry. Reaching out, she brushed a curl off his forehead and let the back of her hand stroke down his cheek comfortingly. He smiled at her shakily and brushed his lips over her wrist.</p>
<p>After what felt like forever, Dr. Madison swiveled in her chair to face them, folding her hands together in her lap. She could feel Bobby tense beside her.</p>
<p><em>Let us have it, doc</em>.</p>
<p>“Well, everything looks great.”</p>
<p>Alex realized suddenly that her husband’s anxiety had been contagious and she let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding in a quiet gust.</p>
<p>“Fundal height looks good, your glucose test showed no issues, urine test is good, your blood pressure is low but holding steady. I’m happy with your weight, although I’d like to see you put on a bit more over the next month or so. All in all, I have no concerns at this point.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Doctor.” Alex grinned widely. Bobby nodded in agreement but seemed unable to form words.</p>
<p>Dr. Madison grabbed a tube of gel off the counter. “Are you ready to see your baby live for the first time, Dad?”</p>
<p>Bobby sat with his fingers tented against his mouth as the doctor flicked on the ultrasound monitor, drew down the crepe sheet and applied a healthy dollop of gel to Alex’s belly. For the first time in this pregnancy, she felt a thrill of excitement as a picture of her womb appeared on the screen. The baby was much easier to identify this time and she smiled helplessly as the doctor pointed out the little fingers and toes that were now visible. When she looked over at her husband, Bobby’s eyes were shiny. He grinned at her around his hand which was trembling ever so slightly.</p>
<p>“Baby looks wonderful, very healthy, developing as I would expect. I’m very happy with how everything is progressing.”</p>
<p>Dr. Madison snapped a few photos before removing the wand and dropping it onto the table, wiping off the gel and switching off the monitor. She smiled at the couple before pulling the crepe sheet back up around Alex.</p>
<p>“I’ll let you get dressed and then we can schedule your next appointment.”</p>
<p>After the doctor left the room, Alex shimmied her yoga pants back up and threw her legs over the side of the exam table, wondering if her mouth would crack at the corners from smiling so widely. She was about to roll her maternity blouse back down over her growing belly when she felt Bobby’s warm hand on her bare skin, caressing the swell reverently. Her eyes grew wet at the expression on his face; the unadulterated wonder, the joy, the excited anticipation. They said a man didn’t truly become a father until he held his baby for the first time, but in that moment, Alex knew that the love that he felt for the life inside her was every bit as strong as hers, even without the same physical connection.</p>
<p>“Our baby is a miracle,” Bobby murmured, his eyes still firmly locked on her abdomen.</p>
<p>She chuckled. “I’m not sure it’s quite miracle territory. But it’s pretty amazing all the same.”</p>
<p>“It’s a miracle to me.” Bobby’s voice was soft, almost a physical caress. “I want to know . . . if it’s a boy or a girl.”</p>
<p>Alex lowered her hand onto his, brushing her fingertips across his knuckles. “You sure about that? You’ve insisted for the last three months you wanted it to be a surprise. Once you know, there’s no going back.”</p>
<p>Her husband nodded resolutely. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, I’ll be thrilled either way. But I want to know.”</p>
<p>She curiously scanned the face she knew so well, the face of the man she had been in love with for so much longer than she had ever admitted, even to herself. The gentleness of his eyes, the softness of his lips, the strength of his cheekbones, his long eyelashes. Her heart swelled with such love she thought it might burst. It was true, what he had said to her that night on the porch swing. Everything would be okay. No matter what the future held for them, they would figure it out. They would get through it together.</p>
<p>Smiling lightly, Alex pressed his hand down more firmly on her stomach. “We’re having a girl.”</p>
<p>
  <em>~ Fini ~</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who read and left kudos! You kept me motivated and writing. I was hesitant to post this story at first but I’m so glad I did. </p>
<p>A huge, massive, ginormous thank you to Shouvon, Wendy and Paula who all were invaluable sounding boards throughout the process of developing the story. It wouldn’t have been half as good without these ladies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>